


the boys of summer

by countthestars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Summer Love, Underage Drinking, also the characters are 17 so i'm tagging underage, everyone's american (except niall), lots of pining, since there's a bit of sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countthestars/pseuds/countthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Louis cracks open his can and holds it up in a toast. “To the best summer of our lives,” he declares.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“To graduating high school,” Harry adds.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“To beer!” Niall crows.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Liam looks around the fire at his three best friends in the entire world, the rest of summer stretching out in front of them as vast and endless as the ocean. There’s nowhere on earth he’d rather be.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“To friendship,” he says.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Four cans clink together in a toast and just for a moment, Liam feels like he’s invincible. </i>
</p>
<p>;</p>
<p>Liam is 17 the summer he falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the boys of summer

**Author's Note:**

> right, so. this is the longest thing i've ever written. thanks to [sam](http://wes411.tumblr.com/) and [tiffany](http://sunshinebabyniall.tumblr.com/) for the cheerleading/proofreading :)
> 
> title from the song of the same name by the ataris.

 

Liam was 17 the first time he fell in love.

It’s not a thought he carries at the forefront of his mind, but it’s always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to drown him under a wave of nostalgia whenever he’s reminded. He’d been digging through his closet, looking for something he’s since forgotten about, when his fingers brushed against the old shoebox. Curious, he pulled it out, wiping the dust from the lid and leaving a clear streak behind.

Slowly, he eased the lid off, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw what was inside. A few old shells, a fragile sand dollar, a faded flyer for a summer carnival long since over. Brushing the shells aside, Liam’s eyes caught on the worn letter, edges of the thin paper yellowed a bit with age.

With unsteady fingers, he picked it up carefully, unfolding the sharp creases cautiously so it wouldn’t tear. The ink was no longer fresh, but the handwriting was still legible and achingly familiar.

 

_“Liam,_

_Is it weird that I’m writing you a letter? Seems more personal than an email, and it’s definitely cheaper than calling long-distance. I finally unpacked my last suitcase today, and you know what I found? Fucking sand. Do you remember what you told me, that first day we hung out? That’d I’d be finding it in places I never expected, years and years from now. Said the beach had a way of claiming people like that. It’s funny, Li. Never thought you’d have something in common with sand.”_

 

Liam pressed his fingers to his lips, smiling fondly as the memories washed over him, pulling him under.

 

~*~

 

It’s late when Liam finally turns his light off, plunging the room into sudden darkness. A nearly full moon hangs fat and heavy in the night sky, and it paints his room in pearly light, so it only takes a minute for his eyes to adjust. Settling back against his pillows, Liam stares up at the water-stained ceiling. His fan churns sluggishly and it’s a small relief from the already oppressive heat of summer, thick like a blanket in the night.

He’s just starting to drift off when a sudden sound jerks him fully awake. He listens intently, straining with the effort, and it comes again, sounding like – it sounds like a rock against the windowpane.

Liam groans and rolls out of bed, stalking over to the window. There’s only one person he knows who would think casual vandalism is a bright idea.

He jerks the window open wide enough to stick his head through – the screen is still torn from last summer after an unfortunate handstand contest gone wrong – and nearly gets hit in the face by another rock.

“Oh shit! Sorry Li!” Louis whisper-shouts from the ground. “Guess you’re up, then.”

“What the hell, Lou?” Liam complains. “Why couldn’t you text me like a normal person?”

Louis’ smile is sharp, pointy teeth like a shark. “Now, where’s the fun in that? C’mon, Liam. It’s the first night of summer vacation and we’ve got places to be.”

“Yeah,” Liam retorts. “My bed.”

“Ooh, _naughty_. Didn’t know you felt that way about me, Liam.”

“That wasn’t – for fuck’s sake, Louis. Please don’t turn everything I say into an innuendo.”

Louis shrugs, unapologetic. “Then don’t say things that can be turned into innuendos.”

“You’re the worst,” Liam informs him, but it comes out a lot fonder than he meant. Louis has that effect.

“C’mon, time’s wasting. Don’t make me come up there,” Louis says cheerfully. “I know where you keep the spare key, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a minute, I’ll be right down.”

Louis pumps his fist into the air victoriously and Liam can’t quite help the smile the steals across his face. Ducking back inside, he quickly pulls on a pair of discarded shorts and tucks his phone into the pocket before tiptoeing quietly as possible down the steps. He hops over the one that always squeaks and slips out the back door where Louis is waiting for him.

“I hope you know my parents will ground me forever if I get caught sneaking out.”

Louis just grins, swinging his leg over his bike. “Then don’t get caught.” He pushes off, pedaling away before Liam’s even reached his own bike. “Race you to Harry’s!” he calls over his shoulder, laughing madly.

Louis may have a head start, but Liam logged long hours at track practice in the spring and has the thigh muscles to show for it. It’s not long before he overtakes Louis, skidding to a stop in front of Harry’s a full half block ahead.

“Unfair,” Louis pants when he pulls up next to Liam. “You cheated.”

“I cheated?” Liam sputters. “How did – you were the one with head start!”

“I’m also the one weighed down with booze,” Louis argues, pointing to the backpack he has strapped across his shoulders. “Oh, don’t make that _face_ , Li.”

“I’m not making a face,” Liam argues, even though he’s definitely making a face. “I just don’t think--”

“Good strategy,” Louis interrupts. “Don’t think. In fact, never think again.” He pulls out his phone and taps out a text before slipping it back in his pocket. A minute later Harry stumbles out the door, his wild curls pulled back by a headscarf. He grins when he spots them.

“Niall just texted, he’s already there. Says to hurry up ‘cause he’s getting thirsty.”

The moonlight gleams faintly off Louis’ teeth when he smiles. “Well then. What are we waiting for, boys?”

-

They dump their bikes next to Niall’s behind some shrubbery at the edge of the beach when they arrive a short time later. It’s not like anyone will steal them, but on the off chance the cops on night patrol drive by, it’s best not to call attention to themselves.

It’s not legal, exactly, to be out past curfew. It’s _definitely_ not legal to drink underage, but all Liam’s protests fall on deaf ears. He follows behind Louis and Harry, climbing over the massive rocks that hide their little bit of beach from the wider expanse of sand. He lists all the reasons drinking is a bad idea and how much trouble they could get into until Louis throws a clump of dried out seaweed that catches him full in the face.

“What the – shit! Louis, that’s disgusting.”

“So are your morals. You only live once, Liam Payne. I intend to live my life to the fullest.”

“I dunno,” Harry muses as he scrambles over the last boulder and jumps down into the soft sand. He stumbles a bit on the landing and falls flat on his ass. Niall glances over from where he’s crouched over a pile of firewood, lighter in hand. He laughs loudly at the sight as Louis and Liam jump down next to Harry, managing to land on their feet.

“What the hell, Styles. Did ya start drinkin’ without me?”

Harry grins widely, entirely unembarrassed. “Don’t be jealous of my natural grace and agility.”

Niall snorts. “Ya look like a grasshopper in a wig. What is this grace and agility ya speak of?”

“Heyyyy,” Harry protests. Louis grabs him by the hand and tugs him to his feet. “Is the mean Irishman bullying you? We won’t let him have any rum, promise.”

“Oi!” Niall yelps in outrage.

Smiling smugly, Harry sticks out his tongue at Niall. Niall pinches it between his thumb and forefinger and Harry makes a distressed noise, batting at Niall’s hand like an overgrown kitten. Louis looks torn between defending Harry and laughing his head off.

“Maybe none of us should have any rum,” Liam tries. “You all remember what happened last time--”

Niall rolls his eyes as he finally lets go of Harry’s tongue, wiping his fingers off on his shirt. “Yeah, because ya won’t let us forget. Look, what if we all pinky swear not ‘t puke on your shoes again? Would that appease you?”

“Careful, Niall,” Louis says, eyes glinting mischievously. “Can’t be using big words like ‘appease;’ you’ll get poor Liam all confused.”

“I know what appease means!” Liam huffs indignantly.

“Of course you do, Liam,” Harry placates. Louis snorts before shrugging off his backpack and reaching for the zipper. “Okay, I’ve got a six-pack my step-dad left in the back of the fridge and half a handle of rum.”

“Let’s start with the beer,” Niall suggests. “It’ll taste like shit if it gets warm.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Horan.” Reaching into the backpack, Louis pulls out the six-pack and tosses a can to Niall and Harry both. Niall catches his easily and Harry fumbles a bit with his, but manages not to drop it.

“Liam?” Louis asks with an eyebrow raise. “No pressure, bro, but if you want one, it’s all yours.”

“YOLO,” Niall adds, tipping his un-opened can towards Liam.

“That’s, like, the worst possible argument.”

“Yeah,” Harry chimes in. “What about reincarnation? _YOLST_!”

Louis looks up like the answers to the universe will be written in the stars. “Do I even want to know?”

With a sly smile, Harry explains, “You only live several times.”

“Get out,” Louis says, deadpan. “I’m terminating this friendship.”

Niall cackles gleefully at the offended look on Harry’s face, but regains his composure a minute later. “As much fun as I’m havin’ boys, think we could start drinkin’ before the fuckin’ sun comes up?”

Louis holds out a can to Liam in offer. Three hopeful faces look back at him. “Oh, fine! Fine, I’ll have one beer.”

“You won’t regret this, Liam,” Louis promises as he tosses the can to Liam. He looks so fucking happy, face washed angelically in the white glow of moonlight, that Liam almost believes him.

Niall finally gets the fire lit and they all settle around it, the crackling sound of the flames joining in with the soothing rush of waves lapping against the beach.

Louis cracks open his can and holds it up in a toast. “To the best summer of our lives,” he declares.

“To graduating high school,” Harry adds.

“To beer!” Niall crows.

Liam looks around the fire at his three best friends in the entire world, the rest of summer stretching out in front of them as vast and endless as the ocean.

There’s nowhere on earth he’d rather be.

“To friendship,” he says.

Four cans clink together in a toast and just for a moment, Liam feels like he’s invincible.

-

It doesn’t take long to slip into the easy pattern of summer. The beaches fill up with tourists, sand-covered children shrieking and sunburned skin slathered in sunblock. Liam doesn’t mind at all – it gets terribly boring during the off-season, seeing the same faces over and over, listening to the same recycled gossip. He likes the freshness summer brings; new people with new stories to tell that he hasn’t heard half a dozen times.

Summer means no school, but it also means boring shifts at the town’s only grocery store. Liam is both stocker and bagger and sometimes even checker. Most of the costumers are locals – the tourists prefer eating out, or making the trip into the city for more variety – but Liam occasionally sees a new face to break up the monotony.

Today has been duller than usual, hardly any customers at all, and Liam’s trying his hardest not to stare at the clock as his shift slowly ticks by. He’s apparently doing a poor job of it, because someone has to clear their throat to pull him from his stupor.

“Shi- sorry, I mean,” he apologizes hastily, turning towards the customer. The rest of his words die an abrupt death in his throat. Standing in front of him is easily the prettiest boy Liam’s ever seen in real life. His face is all sharp angles under soft, dark hair and Liam’s breath hitches like someone’s punched him in the gut.

“’S all right,” the boy says, placing a few groceries on the belt. Liam maybe forgets how to do his job for a moment – forgets how to breathe, even – and the boy looks at him with concern. “You okay, man?”

Liam shakes his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain. “Yeah, fine, sorry. Uh, long day.”

It’s sort of distracting, looking at the boy’s face, so Liam drops his gaze to the groceries – mostly fresh produce – running them over the scanner with slightly unsteady hands. He bags everything efficiently before informing the boy the total.

With a polite smile, the boy hands over a worn twenty. Liam’s careful not to let their fingers brush as he takes the bill, and has to count out the change three times because he keeps fucking it up.

The boy watches him with quiet interest and Liam finally hands over the correct change, steadfastly ignoring the heat he can feel on his cheeks. “Have a nice night – day, I mean, have a nice, um, day.” He tries to stretch his lips into something resembling a smile, but it’s like his body has betrayed him, his muscles uncooperative.

Tucking the change into his pocket, the boy reaches with his other hand for the bagged groceries. “Thanks, Liam. Have a nice day yourself.”

He strolls out of the store without a backwards glance and it takes a full five minutes for Liam to realize he’s wearing his nametag.

-

He’s supposed to go straight home after his shift (his mom will have dinner on the table, a place set for Liam, and she’ll sigh loudly about how he never has time for his family anymore for the rest of the night if he misses it) but he’s currently in the middle of a _crisis_ , so he sends her a quick text to say he’ll be late before hopping on his bike and pedaling furiously to Curly’s.

There’s a line out the door, of course there is; Curly’s has the best soft serve in the whole town and it’s late afternoon on a hot, sunny day. Liam shoves his bike into the rack with annoyance.

His polite smile is probably more like a grimace, but he’s able to push past the people in line with a few forceful _excuse me_ ’s. Inside, the A/C is pumping valiantly away, but the crush of people and rumbling machinery still have the small shop overheating.

Liam spots a familiar curly head sitting up front at one of the counter stools and weaves his way through the tables and chairs until he reaches Harry.

“Liam!” he smiles in delight. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“When does Louis get off?” Liam asks, eyeing the long line of customers still waiting to be served. Behind the counter, Louis is somehow balancing five ice cream cones at once. His smile looks a bit forced as he hands them over one by one to a group of particularly whiny children, his usually carefully styled hair wilting over the sweaty sheen on his forehead.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not actually up to date on Louis’ masturbation habits,” Harry comments, licking ice cream off his spoon suggestively. Well. To be fair, anything Harry does with his mouth is suggestive. His mouth makes _breathing_ look suggestive.

“Oh my god, Harry, there are _children_ here,” Liam hisses. 

Harry winks, which does not make Liam feel better at all.

“Would you – look, forget it. Can you and Louis meet me at the pier tonight? I have a situation.”

That makes Harry sit up. “A _situation_? What kind of situation? A boy situation? Liam Payne – _do you have a boy situation?_ ”

“Liam has a boy situation?”

“I – what? No! I mean. I didn’t even _say_ anything! Don’t you have ice cream to serve?”

Louis grins dangerously. “This isn’t over, Payno.”

“I’m the one who came to _you_!” Liam whines. Harry giggles into his sundae. “We’ll be there, Liam. Can’t wait to hear all about your boy.”

“I never said it was a boy,” Liam tries to argue, but Harry just smiles and pinches his cheek.

“Oh, Liam. You didn’t have to say anything. Your blush said it all for you.”

“I hate you,” Liam informs him. Harry just laughs, the bastard.

-

Liam texts Niall right after dinner, and he agrees to meet up with the rest of them. Liam, of course, is the first one to arrive. He paces over the pier restlessly, watching the golden red hues of sunset leak away with the last of the beachgoers.

Niall shows up not long after, a greasy bag full of fries in hand. “Sorry,” he says around a mouthful, “t’day was brutal, you have no idea how hungry I am.”

“Didn’t you eat dinner?”

Grinning, Niall swallows before answering. “Yeah, but ‘m still hungry. ‘Sides, the grease s’good f’ya. Makes ya grow chest hair, ya know.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Liam says.

“I disagree. I think it’s absolutely true.”

Liam whirls around to see Harry and Louis walking up the pier towards them. “You don’t even know what we were talking about,” Liam accuses.

Louis shrugs. “You could argue that water was wet and I’d disagree with you. Your face does this thing – yes! That exactly! Oh god, it’s so hilarious, Liam, you have no idea.”

Liam thinks hard about pushing Louis off the end of the pier, but he’d probably feel bad if Louis, like, drowned or something. He takes a deep, calming breath instead.

“So,” Niall says, shoving more fries into his mouth. “We here for a reason then? Don’t get me wrong, love you boys, but ‘ve got better things ‘t do than stand around on a fuckin’ pier all night.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest. “Please, Niall. Name _one_ thing better than hanging out with us.”

“Most cheeses,” Niall starts. “Apart from, what’s that one I don’t like?”

“Feta,” Louis supplies.

“Yeah! Fuck feta, ‘s horrible.”

“Okay. I mean, we could sit here and argue the merits of cheese versus friendship, or we could listen to Liam talk about his boy situation.”

“Harry! I never said it was a boy situation.”

“If it’s not a boy situation, I’m going to be so disappointed.”

Liam sighs in defeat. “Okay. Fine, it’s a boy situation.”

“Yay,” Harry cheers. He does what could possibly be interpreted as a victory dance (it mostly involves flailing like a lone sock clipped to a clothesline on a windy day, but then Harry’s never been a strong dancer) and Niall chucks a few fries at him.

Shaking his head, Louis turns away from the spectacle that is Harry and Niall. “Liam, bro. I’m going to need more details. In fact, I’m going to need all the details. Spill.”

“Um,” Liam starts. “He’s like. Pretty? Really, _really_ pretty. Could be on the ceiling of that church pretty.”

Harry furrows his brow. “Do you mean the Sistine Chapel?”

“Yes?”

Louis pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s got a headache. “Liam, honestly – whatever. Okay, he’s pretty. What else?”

“His eyelashes are like, really long.”

That sets Niall off, laughing hysterically. “Oh my god, Payno. You noticed his _eyelashes_? You’re fucked, mate.”

“They were really nice eyelashes,” Liam says primly and Niall just laughs harder.

“Do you even know his name?” Louis questions.

“Um. Not as such.”

Niall’s actually clutching his stomach now. “Like I said,” he wheezes. “ _Fucked_.”

-

Three days later, Liam sees the boy again.

He’s at work, of course, gathering up stray carts in the parking lot. The hot summer sun is beating down on him and sweat’s pricking at his temple when he notices. The boy is leaning against the side of the building, cigarette in hand, blowing out a stream of smoke from pursed lips. Despite the heat, he’s wearing a leather jacket and black skinny jeans.

Liam’s a little bit in love.

Apparently the universe is conspiring against him, because the momentary distraction makes Liam slam his line of carts into the doorway with a loud crash. He winces and risks another glance over at the boy.

He’s staring at Liam, forgotten cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers.

“Ha, ha!” Liam calls, forcing out a laugh. “So hard to control all these carts, you know how it goes…”

The boy stares at him blankly, so maybe he doesn’t know how it goes. Liam wishes that a volcano would erupt beneath his feet and swallow him in lava, but he’s fairly certain that’s not how geology works. With one last pinched smile, he angles the line of carts so it’s clear of the doorway, grunting with the exertion. He pushes the carts through and sighs with relief at the cold air that hits his heated skin. He wants to maybe stand here forever, leaning over the handle of a shopping cart and pretending he hasn’t just made an ass of himself in front of the most attractive boy he’s ever seen.

He’s still got two hours left of his shift, though, and it feels wrong avoid his job duties, so Liam squares his shoulders and marches back inside. There’s nothing left to be stocked, so he flips the ‘open’ sign on one of the registers and stands there expectantly. The relaxed manager is working today, so Liam can at least check his phone while he’s standing there bored. He shoots off a quick text to Louis – it’s mostly sad faces – before slipping his phone back into his pocket. He decides to busy himself with rearranging the stack of coupons by the register when someone clears their throat.

Liam looks up slowly and of course. _Of course_.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the boy says. “Only I was wondering where to find the curry powder?” His lips are curled into a hesitant smile and Liam can see a tiny freckle dotting one of his eyes. Nice to know he has at least one flaw, then.

“The um. It’s in the spice aisle?” Liam offers. He actually has no idea where the curry powder is.

“Is it? I tried looking, but I couldn’t find any,” the boy answers. He pauses, then shoots Liam this devastatingly brilliant smile. “Could you help me look, maybe?”

“Sure,” Liam says faintly. He leads the way to the spice aisle and the boy follows on his heels, his booted feet treading surprisingly softly on the linoleum floor.

It takes all of 27 seconds for Liam to locate the curry powder, right there in the middle of the McCormick spices. When he points it out, the boy’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, I didn’t even see it there. Thanks, bro.”

Liam wonders for a minute if the boy is making fun of him, but he’s smiling so sincerely at Liam, the skin around his eyes crinkled adorably that Liam dismisses the thought as soon as he has it.

“It’s no problem, really.”

The boy beams back at him.

-

Seems like Liam sees the boy just about everywhere, after that. If he’s not smoking outside the grocery store, he’s lounging on a bench near the beach, phone in hand as he keeps a half-hearted eye on some giggling young girls who appear to be his little sisters. Once Liam spotted him in the library, _reading,_ of all things, when Liam went to return the overdue DVDs he checked out three weeks ago.

He’s usually wearing his trademark leather jacket, hair perfectly coiffed despite the humidity, but on one memorable occasion Liam saw him in a sleeveless shirt.

The boy has biceps. And _tattoos_.

Liam wants to know the story behind each one. He wants to know if there are any more, hidden beneath the rest of his clothes, if his skin feels any different where it’s been marked with ink.

Hell, Liam would settle for learning the boy’s name.

-

“He’s like this, I dunno, enema or something.”

“Enigma, you mean. Or was that a Freudian slip?” Harry leers.

Liam frowns. “I just meant that he’s mysterious.”

Not looking up from his phone, Louis shakes his head. “Your word of the day app isn’t going to work if you just skim it, Li.”

“I don’t just skim it,” Liam says defensively. Both Harry and Louis shoot him identical looks of disbelief. It’s creepy when they go all Shining Twins like that.

“Fine,” he huffs. “English isn’t my strong point, okay?”

“Or math,” Harry adds helpfully.

“Shit at geography, too,” Louis puts in, and really? Liam has half a mind to be offended. Instead he takes another bite of sundae.

“When are you gonna ask him his name? It’s been, what, two weeks since you declared an official boy situation? The summer is wasting, bro!”

“First of all, Harry, I haven’t ‘declared an official boy situation.’ That’s not even. That’s not a _thing_.”

Louis snorts. “What do you call it, then, when you pine all pathetically like this?”

“I’m not _pining pathet_ \--” Liam starts, but cuts off abruptly when two dark-haired, giggling girls come into the shop to order ice cream.

With a sigh, Louis slides out of the booth. “Duty calls.”

Liam grips his arm, maybe a little more desperately than he meant to, because Louis looks at him with annoyance. “Lou. Those are – those are his _sisters_.”

“Jesus Christ, Liam. You don’t know his name, but you’ve already ID’d his family? This is a new low, even for you.”

“It’s not like that! I just – I noticed, is all.”

Harry pats him sympathetically on the arm. “I believe you, Liam.”

“Why is this my life,” Liam moans, dropping his head in his hands. Harry starts to pet his hair, which is a nice gesture and normally Liam would appreciate it, but his fingers are sticky from the ice cream and its sort of like being comforted by a toddler.

Louis wanders back a moment later, after the tinkling of the bell above the door signals the girls’ departure. “They got three cones,” he announces. At Liam’s blank look, he raises his brow and adds, “wonder who the third one’s for?”

Oh. “Oh.”

Harry climbs over Liam’s lap like an oversized puppy to press his face to the window. “I see him! Oh, wow, Liam, you weren’t kidding. Look at those cheekbones.”

On the other side of the booth, Louis has his own face up to the glass and he wolf-whistles in appreciation. “I take back everything I ever said, Li. Fuck, he’s got better bone structure than I do.”

“Nobody has better bone structure than you, Lou,” Harry says loyally. Louis beams at him.

With no small effort, Liam extracts himself out from under Harry’s lanky form. “Well. If you two have finished ruining my life, I think I’m going to go home and wish I was never born.”

“All right, George Bailey.”

“Nice one, Harry.”

Harry dimples sunnily at Louis. “Thanks.”

Liam just shakes his head as Louis grandly promises to bring Harry the moon, slipping out the door of the shop and into the steamy afternoon heat. He really does need to get home; he promised his mom he’d help clean out the garage before dinner and god knows how long that’ll take.

He means to walk straight to the bike rack and be on his way, but he kind of sort of accidentally looks at the boy, and, well.

The boy is licking an ice cream cone. With his _tongue_.

Liam stops mid-step, his brain kind of short-circuiting. The boy must feel Liam’s gaze on him, because he looks up and meets Liam’s eyes. His eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn’t look away. Instead, he keeps lapping at the ice cream with quick swipes of his pink, pink tongue, dark eyes boring into Liam’s.

It takes a minute before Liam remembers how to make his limbs work. He drops his head, finally breaking eye contact, and half walks, half stumbles his way to the bike rack. Before he can even nudge up the kickstand, though, there’s a tap on his shoulder.

Reluctantly, he raises his head. The boy is looking back at him intently.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Um.” Liam answers eloquently.

“Because you’re staring.”

“You were staring back!” Liam accuses wildly. It’s true, but it’s not exactly the smooth line Liam was aiming for.

“You were staring first,” the boy points out. He’s wearing his leather jacket again today, and Liam can see the beads of sweat along his hairline. It’s ridiculous. This boy is ridiculous.

“Well, who even wears a jacket in the middle of summer!” Liam bursts out.

The boy looks a bit taken aback by that. “You were staring at my face because I’m wearing a jacket?”

“Yes? No. I mean.” Liam sighs. “You’ve got a lot, like, going on here. It’s a little distracting.” The boy looks thoughtful and Liam adds, “Anyway, isn’t it, like, hot? Wearing a jacket, I mean.”

The boy shrugs. “That’s what the ice cream was for.”

Oh. So that wasn’t a personal attack against Liam’s sanity, then. It was _weather related_.

“Okay. Cool. I have to go?”

For a fraction of a second, the boy’s face falls. His features smooth out so quickly though that Liam thinks he might’ve imagined it. “Right. ‘Course. See you around, whatever.” The boy turns away, a defensive hunch to his shoulders, and Liam feels like a jerk.

“No, I mean – I promised my mom I’d help clean the garage.” He feels encouraged when the boy pauses and turns slightly towards him.

“I’m Liam,” he offers hopefully.

The boy’s mouth quirks up into the barest of smiles. “I know.”

He starts to walk away, then, back towards his sisters, but there’s a looseness to his gait that Liam hasn’t seen before.

“What’s your name?” he calls out.

The boy shoots him a sweet smile over his shoulder. “Zayn,” he calls back.

Liam’s heart doesn’t skip a beat or anything cliché like that. But if he grins to himself the whole bike ride home, well.

There’s no one to prove it, is there?

-

Cleaning the garage turns out to be sweaty, dirty work and Liam climbs gratefully into the shower afterwards. He can’t stop picturing the way Zayn looked, tongue flicking out against his ice cream cone like he had a point to prove, and his dick stirs in interest. The hot water beating down on his sore muscles does nothing to alleviate his situation, and he thinks he probably has time to take care of things before his mom calls him for dinner.

With a relieved sigh, Liam takes himself in hand a moment before he’s interrupted by a loud knock on the bathroom door.

“Oh Liam!” someone calls. “Are you decent?”

“I’m _in the shower_.” He’s 95% sure that he locked the door behind him, but then the bathroom door is bursting open and Liam can see a silhouette prance into the room through the flimsy shower curtain. He pokes his head out of the shower and Louis grins back at him, perched on the bathroom counter.

“Louis. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?”

“Your mom said that dinner will be ready in 10. Also, I saw you having an actual conversation with your boy. I want details.”

Liam stares at him, aghast. “So you ambushed me in the _shower_?”

Louis shrugs, unrepentant. “You have that weird no nudity policy. Had to be sure you wouldn’t run away, hey?”

Liam needs new friends. Friends with an understanding of personal boundaries and, like, morals.

“I’m going to wash the shampoo out of my hair,” he says. “And you’re going to leave this bathroom.”

Looking unimpressed, Louis lounges back until he’s leaning against the mirror. “You say that like I’m not holding the only towel within arm’s reach hostage.”

Sure enough, Louis has a fluffy bath towel draped across his lap. The linen closet is too far for Liam to reach from his safe place behind the shower curtain and he really, desperately needs new friends.

He sighs in defeat. “What do you want to know?”

Louis’ lips twist up in a victorious smile. “Everything.”

-

If Liam had any doubts that the universe hates him, the fact is confirmed when Louis assures his mother that he plans to stay for dinner. (“Really, Mrs. Payne--” “Please, Louis, call me Karen.” “ _Karen_. You’re an incredible cook. I could never say no to your meatloaf.”) Louis proceeds to eat his corn on the cob in the most suggestive way possible, careful to make Significant Eye Contact with Liam all the while. When Liam drops his gaze to his plate, his own mother accuses him of being rude.

Louis hides his laughter with bite of meatloaf, but he can’t hide forever. Liam tries to promise swift retribution with eyebrow waggles, but it must not translate, because Louis mostly looks at him with confusion. It’s entirely unfair, because he’d know exactly what Harry was trying to convey.

He’s quick to excuse himself and Louis after dinner. He barely has to beg at all for his mom to let him go to the pier with the boys (and definitely does not acknowledge that Louis’ puppy eyes play a big role in her finally relenting) before they’re out the door.

Harry and Niall are already there when they pedal up, bikes abandoned carelessly on the edge of the beach. Louis and Liam’s bikes join the pile and they walk up towards the end of the pier, where the other boys have their feet dangling over the edge, gentle ocean waves lapping at their toes.

At the sound of their footsteps, Harry leans back so he can peer at them upside-down. “So,” he grins. “When’s the wedding?”

Next to him, Niall starts laughing. “What the fuck, I miss all the good shit. Why can’t you lot do things in the evening, like normal people?”

Settling down next to Niall, Louis throws a companionable arm around his shoulder. “Sorry, Niall, but we can’t all postpone our lives until you’re done fishing for the day.” He rears back suddenly. “Jesus, have you showered, even? You stink like fish.”

Niall shrugs. “Me da needs me on the boat. You get used ‘t the smell after a while. ‘S like it’s not even there.”

“Speak for yourself, bro. You fuckin’ reek.”

With a grin, Niall shifts around until he can tackle Louis to the ground. He rubs his blonde-tinted hair in Louis’ face while Louis squawks indignantly. Harry watches them fondly and Liam plops down next to him, out of the way of flailing limbs.

He turns towards Liam expectantly. “So? We saw you talking to him! What’d you say? What’d _he_ say? Tell me everything!”

“His name is Zayn,” Louis croaks out. He’s still covered in Niall and laughing breathlessly. “And he noticed Liam noticing him.”

Niall snaps his head up. “You talked ‘t him? Wow, Liam, I didn’t think ya had it in ya.”

Taking advantage of Niall’s momentary distraction, Louis shoves him off, rolling over until he can sit on Niall’s chest. “Suck it, Horan. You’ll never beat the champ.”

Niall runs his tongue over his upper lip, which would probably be a lot sexier if his teeth weren’t still covered in braces. “You wish I would, don’t ya Tomlinson?”

Neither one seems to notice that they’re inches from falling off the edge of the pier, too busy insulting each other. Harry catches Liam’s eye and raises a questioning brow. Liam grins back and nods. On Harry’s three count, they push as one. Louis realizes what they’re up to about a split second before he loses his balance, looking at Liam with wide eyes as he topples off the pier after Niall with a splash.

He and Niall surface to Harry and Liam’s loud laughter, standing drenched in the chest-high water. Louis looks murderous, hair plastered to his head like a drowned rat and t-shirt clinging to his skinny chest. Niall leaps onto his back like a particularly cheerful barnacle, sunnily promising to enact revenge.

Liam goes home soaking wet and too drunk on summer to care.

-

The next time Liam sees Zayn is in the dairy aisle, of all places.

For once, he’s not working. He’s on a mission from his mom to pick up milk and he’s deep in thought, trying to figure out if it’s cheaper to buy two half-gallons or one whole gallon, when he realizes someone is standing next to him.

He looks up and falls right into Zayn’s big brown eyes.

“Sorry,” Zayn says hesitantly. “I was just--” he gestures to the open refrigerator door. “Need milk.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Liam apologizes quickly, grabbing a random gallon and stepping back so he’s not blocking Zayn’s way anymore. Zayn smiles in thanks before reaching to open the now frosted door. He stares at the selection of milk for a long moment before he seems to realize that Liam is still standing there like an idiot, pulling back to shoot him a questioning look.

Shit. Why is Liam still standing here like an idiot?

“Did you need something else?” Zayn finally asks.

“No, I, um, just the, yeah. Milk. I’m gonna. Go.” And with that sorry attempt at an actual sentence, Liam starts to make his escape, cheeks burning in mortification and milk clutched tightly in his sweaty fingers.

“Wait,” Zayn calls after him and Liam stops mere feet from the end of the aisle. He slowly turns back towards Zayn, looking somewhere over his left shoulder instead of making eye contact.

“I lied,” Zayn says softly. “I don’t actually need milk.”

“Oh…kay?”

Zayn ducks his head, a shy smile on his face. “I just, um. I wanted an excuse to talk to you?”

“Oh,” Liam says. A second later, his brain processes what that means. “ _Ohh_.”

“Sorry if this is, like, weird. I don’t really know anyone here and you seem nice, so. Sorry, this is definitely weird, isn’t it? I should, like. Leave you to your shopping. Sorry.”

If Liam didn’t know better, he’d think the faint pink color staining Zayn’s cheeks was a blush. That can’t be possible, because ridiculously attractive boys who wear leather jackets and have tattoo-covered arms don’t get flustered talking to painfully average boys like Liam.

Impossible or not, Zayn looks good with a bit of color in his cheeks. Liam grins at him. “Nah, it’s not weird.”

Zayn’s face blooms into a relieved smile. “Really? You don’t even know, it’s been awful having nobody to talk to besides my sisters. We’re staying with my aunt for the summer, and she honest-to-god has dial-up. It takes five minutes just to send an email. I feel like I’ve been living in the dark ages.”

This is the most words Liam’s ever heard Zayn string together at any one time. He’s having a hard time believing that he spent the first seventeen years of his life never hearing the way Zayn’s voice sounds when he’s happy. He kind of wants to spend the next seventeen years of his life listening to it, but that’s sort of a heavy thought for the diary aisle.

“Dial-up? That’s horrible, bro. You should come over to mine sometime, I’ll give you the wifi password and everything.”

Zayn absolutely lights up at that. “That’d be sick.”

Holding up his milk, Liam offers, “I’m actually heading home now to drop this off for my mom. You could come with, if you’re not busy?” It’s not like he just asked Zayn out on a date, or anything, but his heart is still beating overtime in his chest as soon as the words pass his lips.

Zayn grins. “What’re we waiting for?”

-

Liam walks his bike home, Zayn chattering away at his side the whole way. It’s like a dam broke back in the dairy aisle, Zayn’s words flowing thick and easy, washing over Liam like a tidal wave. Zayn tells him about his sisters, the time that he was six and fell out a tree, spending the whole summer with two broken arms, and that he absolutely can’t stand sand.

“It gets everywhere, like. In your clothes and shoes, no matter how many times you shake things out. I keep finding sand in my _bed_ , I can’t escape it, bro.”

Liam laughs. “Sorry to break it to you, man, but you’re going to keep finding sand in places you don’t even expect years and years from now. The beach has a way of claiming you like that.”

They slow to a stop in front of Liam’s house. Liam cocks his head, trying to see it through Zayn’s eyes. It needs to be repainted, patches of wood showing through the peeling dull white. The porch sags a bit in front and one of the shutters is hanging a little haphazardly, a casualty of their last big storm. There are flowers blooming in neat garden beds, though, and it might not make it on the cover of one of his mom’s _Home and Garden_ magazines, but Liam thinks it looks like home.

He leans his bike against the side of the garage and turns to Zayn before heading to the back door. “My mom might be kind of nosy, so just, like, ignore her, okay?”

Zayn bites his lip. “She’s not gonna be mad you invited me over or anything, is she?”

“What? No, she’ll be thrilled. She loves to interrogate my friends.”

Liam doesn’t miss the way Zayn’s smile brightens at the word friends. He leads Zayn into the house, presenting the milk to his mom with a flourish and dodging most of her questions before they make their escape to his room.

He realizes that maybe that was a mistake about two seconds after Zayn steps through the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in Liam’s collection of Marvel posters taped to the walls and his shelves crammed with action figures and comic books.

Zayn is going to realize that Liam is actually a huge geek and will probably never want to talk to him again. He’s probably going to laugh at him first and Liam is going to die, sad and alone, surrounded by superheroes who are much cooler than him.

“You like comics?” Zayn asks.

Liam supposes he could say no, but the lie would be a bit obvious. Maybe he could pretend he’s accidentally led them into his older sister’s room, laugh it off like it’s all a big joke. Tony Stark stares down at him with an unimpressed expression on his face from the poster above Liam’s bed and he sighs.

“Yeah,” he finally confesses.

Zayn’s face splits into a wide grin. “Sick, bro.”

-

Zayn, it turns out, is an even bigger geek than Liam. They sit together on Liam’s bed, surrounded by comics as the afternoon slips away. Zayn sheds his leather jacket and Liam wonders that he ever thought Zayn was mysterious. Zayn is quick, fleeting smiles and bright laughter and crinkle-eyed delight. He’s the slow sweep of dark lashes that has Liam’s stomach flipping, even as his clever words startle a laugh out of Liam.

He stays until Liam’s mom calls them for dinner, begging off with polite excuses, saying he needs to get home to his own family. He gives Liam his number before he leaves, and Liam tries to act nonchalant about it, even though he’s freaking out a bit on the inside. Liam’s mom, of course, spends all of dinner questioning him about Zayn, telling him in no uncertain terms that he’s to invite Zayn to dinner soon.

Liam maybe ignores a text or twelve from Louis, asking to hang out in increasingly demanding messages, and earns some brownie points, staying in to watch a movie with his parents. He slips off to bed when the credits roll. It’s barely even dark, but he has an early shift in the morning.

It’s not until he’s nearly asleep that he realizes that he never actually gave Zayn the wifi password. He falls asleep still smiling.

-

The next day, Louis corners him in the soup aisle.

“Liam Payne. You owe me an explanation.”

“Hello, how are you, Liam? Very well, and yourself, Louis?” Liam says, not looking away from the cans of soup he’s trying to shelve.

Louis scoffs. “Social niceties are for nice people. You’re not nice people, Liam.”

He finally drags his eyes away from the soup. “I was watching a movie with my parents, all right? We can hang out tonight, if you want.”

Crossing his arms, Louis gives him his most unimpressed look. “You think I’m mad that you blew us off last night?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Unbelievable. You are unbelievable, Liam.”

With a sigh, Liam climbs to his feet. “What’s this about, then?”

Louis pokes him in the chest. “You hung out with Zayn yesterday, _and you didn’t even tell me_. I had to find out from my own mother! My mother, Liam, who found out gossip about you before I did. Now, tell me, what kind of friend does that make you?”

“What? How the hell did your mom – oh.”

“Karen,” Louis answers anyway, “ _tells her friends things_ , unlike her sorry excuse for a son.”

Louis looks like he’s gearing up for a fight. Liam needs to act quickly, because once Louis picks up steam, he’s nearly impossible to shut up.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offers, thinking furiously.

Louis narrows his eyes. “How?”

“I’ll, um…” Louis taps his foot impatiently and Liam has a sudden stroke of genius. “I’ll invite Zayn to hang out with all of us.”

“That’s a bold move, Payne.”

Liam shrugs. “Zayn said it’s been lonely here, not knowing anyone.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about Zayn. We’ll make him feel right at home. You, on the hand…” Louis grins and it’s faintly evil. “Let’s just say I’m going to have some fun, seeing how red I can make you turn.”

“I hate you,” Liam says.

“I know,” Louis replies, pinching Liam’s cheek before he turns on his heel, leaving Liam alone to finish stocking his soup.

-

He texts Zayn during his break, asking if he wants to grab a bite at the local burger place with the guys. It takes a few agonizing hours for Zayn to text him back, but when Liam’s phone finally buzzes in his pocket, it’s a yes from Zayn.

If Liam maybe tries on a few outfits before finally settling for a tight t-shirt that shows off his arm muscles, well, Louis isn’t there to make fun of him so it doesn’t even count. It takes his best puppy dog eyes, but his mom finally gives in and agrees that he can take the family car so Liam doesn’t have to worry about getting all sweaty and gross during the bike ride there.

Of course, that means he feels obligated to pick up everyone else so they don’t get sweaty either (or, in Louis’ case, complain bitterly the rest of the night) so they’re running a bit late when they finally pull up.

It only takes a minute to spot Zayn. He’s standing outside the restaurant, back to the wall, smoking a cigarette and looking like an extra in _Grease_ with his leather jacket and quiffed hair.

Harry nudges Niall excitedly and points less-than-subtly at him.

“Holy shit,” Niall says. “I thought you were exaggerating. Jesus, I can see his eyelashes from _here_.”

Liam smiles smugly, but he doesn’t have time to retort because Zayn spots him, face breaking into an eye-crinkling grin that instantly shatters his bad-boy façade. He flicks his cigarette to the ground and stubs it out with the toe of his boot before ambling over, hands tucked into the pockets of his skinny jeans.

“Hi,” he says, a little shyly when he reaches them.

Liam grins back. “Hi yourself. Everybody, this is Zayn. Zayn, everybody.”

Zayn pulls his hand from his pocket to give a little wave. “Hi, everybody.”

Louis pushes past everyone, wrapping his arm around Zayn’s waist like they’re old friends to steer him towards the door. Zayn shoots Liam a vaguely panicked look over his shoulder, and Liam tries to smile encouragingly. Louis is a lot to acclimate too; it’s best to just jump straight in.

“Zayn!” he’s gushing. “It is a _delight_ to finally meet you; we’ve heard so much.”

“Um. Since yesterday?”

They slip inside before Liam can catch Louis’ response, but he seems to be following through on his promise to embarrass Liam as much as possible. Liam should be worried, probably, but it’s, like – it’s nice, seeing Zayn surrounded by his friends, looking like he belongs.

Liam follows them inside the noisy restaurant, Harry and Niall bickering good-naturedly beside him.

-

“This little leprechaun just washed up on shore one day,” Louis says with a smile, slipping his arm around Niall. “We were gonna throw him back, but he was too cute.”

Niall laughs and shoves Louis off him. “Oh, fuck off.”

“So you were born in Ireland, then?”

“Yup,” Niall confirms, sucking up the last of his soft drink obnoxiously.

“And then he was raised in a barn,” Harry adds, sipping daintily at his own drink. Niall blows him a kiss from across the table. Harry pretends to catch it and put it in his pocket and Zayn watches the whole exchange with amusement.

“He takes after me,” Louis says with pride. He gets a real kiss from Niall, a sloppy press of lips against his cheek. Harry sulks back in his seat and Liam’s not actually sure who he’s jealous of.

“So, the rest of you grew up here?” Zayn asks curiously, politely ignoring Harry’s fit.

“Pretty much. Harry’s family has been here for generations,” Louis explains. “They own, like, half the town.”

Zayn’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Lou’s exaggerating,” Harry argues. “We own a couple of the beach-front rentals and the Bed and Breakfast.”

“Don’t forget the bakery,” Niall adds.

“Or Curly’s,” Liam puts in.

“Like I said,” Louis grins. “Half the town.”

“Poor little rich boy,” Niall teases.

“If anyone starts quoting the OC at me, I’m leaving,” Harry warns. He’s lounging back in his seat though, arm draped across the top of the booth behind Liam and his lips are curved up in an easy smile, so Liam thinks it’s probably an empty threat.

“What about you and Liam, then?” Zayn directs his question to Louis before he can say what he likes about rich kids, deftly turning the conversation into safer waters.

“I moved here when I was a toddler after my mom remarried. My step-dad’s a local though, so I was grandfathered in. Liam, though – your family’s been here about as long as Harry’s, yeah?”

“Yeah, at least two or three generations,” Liam agrees. He shoots Harry a sly smile. “Haven’t quite built up an empire like Harry’s, but been supplying the factory with generations of workers.”

“The factory?” Zayn parrots.

Louis rolls his eyes. “There’s really only two ways to make a living here, if you’re a local. You either capitalize on tourist season and hope it gets you through the winter, or you go to work on the assembly line.”

“Not true,” Niall cuts in. “There’s a third option: fishing. That’s why my family moved here ‘n the first place.”

“Yeah, and you’re the only one at this table who thinks perfume de fish is an acceptable smell. Anyway, my point, if you hadn’t _rudely interrupted_ , Niall, is that Liam thinks he’s only good enough for the factory. Doesn’t think he can do any better than assembling cars until he’s old enough to earn his pension.”

“Louis,” Liam warns. This is an old argument, and one he doesn’t want to subject Zayn to.

“What?” Louis asks, his blue eyes blazing. “I got shit grades, too, Payno, and the community college still accepted me. I told you, I’ll have enough saved to buy a car by the end of summer, we can carpool so you don’t have to worry about borrowing your mom’s car all the time, and--”

“It doesn’t matter about the car, Lou. I’m not – you know I’m not college material.”

Louis opens his mouth to retort, but Zayn beats him to it. “What makes you say that?” he asks softly. He’s not looking at Liam with any judgment, just curiosity in his dark eyes. Liam swallows.

“I can’t spell. It takes me forever to read a book. I’m shit at math, I can’t find any countries on a globe unless they’re labeled, I don’t--”

Zayn holds up his hand to stop him. Louis looks like he’s nearly bursting with his need to say something, but bites his lip to let Zayn talk.

“I mean, I don’t exactly know you well, but… you know there’s more to college than just, like, being good at studying, right? You need to be a hard worker, and, you know, be able to think critically, like. I don’t think college would be easy, if you’re a slow reader, but – you strike me as the sort of person who doesn’t give up easily.”

There’s silence around the table for a moment before Louis interrupts it, clapping Zayn on the back. “I like you,” he announces. “You can stay.”

Zayn smiles wryly. “Didn’t realize this was an audition, bro.”

“Have you not read Shakespeare? All the world’s a stage.” Louis starts in on a dramatic monologue, and Liam _hasn’t_ read Shakespeare, but he’s fairly certain he didn’t write the intro to _Fresh Prince_.

Anyway, it’s enough to break the tension and the rest of the night passes in a blur of easy laughter, Zayn’s melding in with everyone else’s in perfect harmony.

-

They all pile into Liam’s mom’s car after finally stumbling out of the restaurant hours later, and as much as Liam wants to drop Zayn off last so he can have a least a moment alone with him, he can’t work it out logistically without being completely obvious.

Louis ends up being the last one because he lives the closest, and there’s a weird silence in the car as he pulls into Louis’ driveway, headlights shining brightly on the warped and peeling paint on his detached garage. Liam puts the car into park and looks at Louis expectantly. Slowly, Louis unbuckles his seat belt, but hesitates with his hand on the door handle.

“Liam,” he starts, voice uncharacteristically uncertain. “You know… you know Harry and I don’t mean it, right, when we make fun of you? Like, we would never ever say those things, with the intention of hurting you.”

Liam swallows thickly. “Of course I know that, Lou. Anyway, it’s true, isn’t it? I really am shit at school.”

“Fuck,” Louis swears softly. “That was never – look, I’m sorry, Liam. I should never have said any of that shit to you, because you went and believed it. It doesn’t matter, okay, if you misspell words sometimes. Zayn’s right about you, you know? You’ve got so many other talents, Li. You’d be wasted on a factory job.”

Liam stares at his hands, watching his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel tightly. “There’s nothing wrong with a factory job. My dad works in the factory.”

“I know that, Liam,” Louis sighs. “Look, I don’t want to fight. I love you, okay?”

“Love you, too,” Liam replies quietly. Louis reaches over and squeezes his arm reassuringly before he finally opens the car door and slips out. Liam waits until he’s safely inside before he backs out the driveway, careful not to break the speed limit as he drives the few short blocks home.

The house is dark when he pulls up and he quietly unlocks the backdoor, tiptoeing up the steps and jumping over the one that always squeaks. He sheds his clothes and crawls into bed in just his boxers, pulling the blanket up to his chin despite the thick summer heat.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep, but his eyes are dry when he finally drifts off.

-

Zayn falls into their group with remarkable ease.

He tags along with Liam to Curly’s after he gets off work, joining in easily as he and Harry harass Louis for free ice cream. He laughs when Louis smashes a cone in Harry’s face, vanilla ice cream everywhere. Liam expects him to balk and brush it off when Louis dares him to lick the ice cream off Harry’s cheek, but instead he shrugs and leans over, pink tongue a blur as he swipes it against Harry’s skin.

He sits back, grinning slyly, and even Louis looks impressed.

Harry pretends to swoon, which is a ridiculous sight to begin with, but he’s still mostly covered in ice cream and it sets Zayn off, laughing hysterically. Liam chucks a handful of napkins at Harry’s stupid face and secretly relishes it when one of them gets stuck to the sticky mess on his cheek.

Across the counter, Louis catches his eye and winks at him. “Green’s not your color, babe,” he mouths when Zayn and Harry are both distracted.

Liam crosses his arms and glares back, but Louis has to go serve another costumer before Liam can inform him that he is not jealous, thanks very much.

-

Zayn’s game for hanging out in Liam’s bedroom, or the crowded ice cream shop when Louis’ working, or Harry’s basement for movie nights whenever his mom will let Harry have friends over, but he’s strangely reluctant to come to the pier.

“It’s like our spot, bro,” Louis tries to explain. “It’s in a no-fishing zone, so no one ever uses it. We can just, like, chill, without someone’s mom coming to check up on us.”

“Yeah, I mean, I get it, teen rebellion and all,” Zayn says with a wave of his hand. “But, like. I’m not a fan of beaches.”

“He doesn’t like the sand,” Liam helpfully adds, even though he’s supposed to be helping Louis convince Zayn to come with them. It’s hard to argue with Zayn, is the thing. He’s got these eyes, right, and all Liam wants is to see them sparkling in happiness.

“That’s the funny thing about piers, isn’t it?” Louis muses. “They’re actually made of wood.”

“Fascinating. You have to walk across the beach to get to the pier, so my point still stands.”

“Look, if you’re going to be that big of a baby about it, Liam can carry you. Problem solved.”

“What?” Liam and Zayn ask at the same time.

Louis grins evilly. “Liam’s always walking around with these big muscles, but never putting them to use. It’s a waste, if you ask me. You can give Zayn a piggyback ride, make yourself useful. Zayn’ll keep his precious toes sand-free, and we all win.”

“Louis. Are you crazy? I’m not – no way. I’m not carrying Zayn across the whole beach.”

“Yeah,” Zayn adds. “What if he trips and we fall? Sand everywhere. It’s a terrible idea.”

Liam shoots Zayn an offended look. “I would _not_ trip. I could carry you easily, okay, that’s not the issue.”

“I don’t see any issue at all,” Louis says, eyes wide in faux innocence. “It’s settled, then. Liam, you carry Zayn. Zayn, you can thank me later.”

“I don’t think I’m going to thank you ever.”

Zayn looks like he wants to resist, but Louis is a force worse than a summer storm when he gets his mind fixed on something. That’s how they find themselves on the edge of the beach, Harry and Niall nothing more than smudged silhouettes at the end of the pier as Zayn prepares to leap onto Liam’s back.

“You sure about this?” Zayn asks, worry lacing his tone. “Like. You’re really not gonna drop me? I don’t know. I think maybe this is a bad idea.”

“I swear to god, Zayn, get on Liam’s back right now or I’m going to shove a handful of sand down your shorts.”

“I want you to know that I regret ever auditioning to be your friend,” Zayn retorts, but he reaches up to grip Liam’s shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah. You say that now, but you’ll see the error in your ways. Liam, bend down a little.”

Liam hunches a bit, glad that at least in this position, Zayn can’t see the way his face is flushed red with embarrassment. “Okay,” Zayn says softly from behind him. “I’m gonna – on the count of three, I’m gonna jump.”

“Won’t let you fall,” Liam promises.

“I trust you,” Zayn whispers, almost too quiet for Liam to catch. Then he’s counting, three, two, one, and suddenly Liam’s got a warm boy plastered to his back, skinny legs wrapped around his waist and arms clinging tightly his shoulders. Liam reaches back to secure his arms around Zayn’s thighs, hitching him up more securely.

“All right then?”

“Never better,” Zayn replies, but he sounds a little choked.

“Right. Here we go.”

Louis appoints himself as personal cheerleader, running in circles around them like a hyperactive Pomeranian and yipping wildly. Zayn smothers a laugh into the side of Liam’s neck, his breath hot against Liam’s already flushed skin.

Liam tightens his grip on Zayn’s thighs, treading over the sand with grim determination. It’s not that he’s upset, exactly, that he has Zayn’s surprisingly firm chest pressed flush to his back, arms and legs gripping tight like a weirdly sexy koala. It’s more the fact that Liam is marching to a very public pier, not his private bed, and this is an act of friendship and not, like, foreplay.

Louis catches his eye and smirks, which is totally unfair, because when did Louis learn to read minds, even? Liam has worked very hard to keep his pining to a minimum since Zayn has made himself a permanent fixture in their friend group, because Zayn is really, like, observant, and if he figures out that Liam has this unrequited crush on him, Liam will probably die.

They make it to the pier without incident (if you don’t count the way Liam is half-hard in his jeans, but he’s wearing an oversized shirt and he doesn’t think it’s obvious, or Louis would have definitely said something by now) and the moment Liam reaches the peer, Zayn’s wriggling about like a puppy, begging to be let down.

His feet have barely touched the pier before he’s glancing back longingly across the beach towards the parking lot.

“Nope,” Louis says, grabbing Zayn’s arm and dragging him bodily down towards the end of the pier, where Harry and Niall are having an intense discussion, if the energetic arm movements are anything to go by. “You made it to the pier, Malik. Now you’re going to enjoy it.”

“You can’t just force people to enjoy things against their will, Louis,” Zayn protests, but he doesn’t put up much of a fight, letting Louis drag him forward. Liam trails behind, trying to sneakily adjust himself in his jeans when Louis isn’t looking.

“Just get on Tinder, bro,” Harry’s saying as they walk up. Niall flops backwards, legs dangling off the edge of the pier. “’M not that desperate, mate.”

“I dunno, Niall,” Louis remarks. “You’ve got some pretty impressive callouses on your palm. Hate to see what your dick looks like.”

“Ha, ha. You’re hilarious, Lou. Tell me again about all the girls you’ve pulled this summer.”

“A gentleman never tells,” Louis says grandly. Harry fist bumps him. “We don’t objectify women, Niall. ‘S not right.”

Liam settles down next to Niall as he starts arguing with Harry, patting the empty space on his other side with a meaningful look at Zayn. Zayn hesitates a moment, eyeing the calm ocean waves with a nervous look before he reluctantly lowers himself down beside Liam. He keeps his feet firmly on the pier, knees to his chest and arms wrapped around his legs.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” Liam asks quietly, nudging his shoulder against Zayn’s. “No sand, just like we promised.”

“It’s not the sand ‘m worried about,” Zayn mumbles cryptically and Liam frowns. “What’re you worried about, then?”

Louis interrupts before Zayn can answer. “What about you, bro?”

“Huh?” Zayn asks.

Louis leans back so Harry’s lanky body isn’t blocking his view. “We were just talking about the sad state of everyone’s love life. You got someone special back home, or are you single like the rest of us?” Liam hopes Zayn doesn’t notice the way he goes suddenly stiff, muscles tense as he waits for Zayn’s answer.

“Oh, um. Nah, no one special.”

Liam is thankful Louis isn’t sitting next to him, because he’s certain he’d be elbowing Liam meaningfully and waggling his eyebrows. Louis doesn’t do subtle well. Even though Louis is on the other side of the pier, Liam still feels an elbow dig into his side. He glances down and Niall grins up at him, still flopped back on the ground. He waggles his eyebrows at Liam and Liam really, truly needs new friends.

“Isn’t that interesting, Liam? Zayn’s single too!” Louis says. Apparently Niall and Louis are tag-teaming their efforts to ruin Liam’s life. How coordinated of them.

“Is this the kind of scintillating conversation you guys can’t have on dry land?” Zayn asks. He’s still curled in a ball, eyes on the ocean like a wave will come up to swallow him if he doesn’t stare it down.

“Yes, Zayn, it is, and I’d appreciate it if you’d quit looking so miserable.”

Zayn shoots him a look of disbelief before shaking his head. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t drag me to the beach, so I guess none of us will get what we want.”

“No offense, mate, but ya picked the wrong place ‘t spend the summer if ya really hate the beach that much.”

“You do look a bit tense,” Harry observes from where he’s stretched out on his back next to Niall, arms pillowed behind his head in the picture of contentment.

“Oh, he’s just worried he’ll get wet and ruin his hair,” Louis scoffs, arms crossed over his chest. Zayn looks pointedly at Louis’ artfully styled hair and raises his eyebrow, unimpressed.

“’S great hair, ‘t be fair,” Niall says with a shrug. Louis leans over Harry to twist Niall’s nipple, making him yelp and smack Louis’ hand away.

Liam nudges Zayn again. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks softly.

“Don’t really like water,” Zayn admits, just as quietly. Niall and Louis are wrestling now, Harry still lying between them and watching with amusement. He grunts when a stray elbow catches him in the stomach, but doesn’t actually making any move to get out of the way.

Liam scoots a bit until his shoulder is pressed against Zayn’s, a solid line of warmth down Liam’s side. Zayn relaxes a bit next to him, slumping into Liam’s shoulder.

“Tell me about it?” Liam offers.

Zayn’s silent for a moment. “’S not much to tell, really,” he finally says. “Just that, um. I can’t really swim, so. Not a fan of, ya know, deep water.”

“Jesus, why didn’t you say anything?” Liam blurts out. “We would never have made you come out here, if we’d known.”

Zayn shrugs, looking at Liam shyly from beneath his lashes. “’S kinda embarrassing to admit, like.”

Liam’s chest feels so full of fondness that he could burst with it. “Zayn, seriously, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And, like, if you wanted – I mean, I could teach you how to swim.”

A slow smile spreads across Zayn’s face and heat curls low in Liam’s belly at the way Zayn’s eyes honestly _sparkle_.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, can’t promise you won’t get sandy--” Zayn wrinkles his nose adorably and Liam grins “—but yeah, I would. Only if you want, though. No pressure, okay?”

Zayn grins back, but his eyes are soft. “You’re a good friend, Liam.”

Maybe being Zayn’s friend is all he’ll ever be, but Liam thinks it’s a pretty good consolation prize, all things considered.

-

A few days later, Niall sends out a group text to inform everyone that his brother is in town and will buy them beer. Louis whoops loudly right there in Curly’s, punching the air victoriously.

“Shut up, Liam,” Louis says before Liam can start protesting.

“What? I didn’t even say anything!”

“Your eyebrows did. You’re coming, Liam. No one is going to puke on your shoes, okay?”

“Do I even want to know?” Zayn asks.

Harry groans. “No, you really don’t. I’m surprised Liam hasn’t told you. His favorite hobby is reminding everyone about the terrible side effects of teen drinking.”

“I can’t really drink because I’ve only got one kidney,” Liam explains. “So I’m always the one who has to clean up everyone else’s messes. You’ve seen Louis sober, so I’m sure you can imagine the kind of horrible decisions he makes when he’s drunk.”

“Liam, we have been over this. We’re young and stupid. It’s our prerogative to make reckless decisions. That’s what teenagers _do_!”

Zayn shrugs. “Sounds like fun to me.”

It’s not like Liam can say no, after that.

-

Unsurprisingly, Zayn complains vocally when he finds out they plan to drink at the beach. Louis asks if he’d rather everyone come around to his, which shuts him up pretty quick.

Liam can still hear him mumbling bitterly about the sand as he scrambles over the last of the rocks, looking at the ground like it’s personally offended him. Liam rolls his eyes, but he’s secretly endeared. While Louis and Niall start arguing over the beer, Liam shrugs off his backpack and pulls out an old blanket. He lays it out flat over the sand and smoothes out the edges before grinning at Zayn and presenting it with a flourish.

Zayn’s whole face lights up.

“You brought a blanket? Nice thinking, Li,” Harry says, sounding impressed.

“The fuck’s a blanket good for?” Louis asks. “Can’t get you drunk, can it?”

Zayn settles down onto the blanket carefully, patting the spot next to him and looking up hopefully at Liam. It’s not like Liam’s about to turn down that invitation, so he kneels down, crawling across the blanket and rearranging himself so he’s sat next to Zayn. Harry throws himself down on Liam’s other side, wriggling around until he’s got his head in Liam’s lap.

“Louis!” he calls out. “Bring us beer!”

“So demanding,” Louis grouses, but he and Niall pass out the ice cold cans, wet with condensation. It takes a little cajoling, but finally Liam relents and takes one, too. There’s not actually enough room on the blanket for everyone to fit, but Louis squeezes himself in next to Zayn and Niall sits half on top of Harry and they make it work.

The sun has just slipped below the tree-line behind them, the sky smeared with the bruised shades of twilight, but the moon’s already out, reflecting a rippling white path from the horizon to where the waves are lapping gently at the sand a few feet from the blanket’s edge.

Louis holds up his can of beer in a toast. “Half of summer’s already gone,” he says soberly. “To the second half being even better than the first.”

“To being young and reckless,” Harry grins.

“To my brother bein’ old enough ‘t buy beer,” Niall adds, laughing.

Zayn holds up his can. “To blankets,” he murmurs, shoulder nudging against Liam’s.

Liam is the last to raise his can, clinking it against the others’. “To old friends,” he says. “And to new ones.”

Everyone cheers, beer sloshing messily over Harry’s fingers and Niall’s braying laughter flooding the quiet night. Liam wants to capture this moment like a snapshot, to pull it out years later when everything is yellowed and dull with age, so that he can remember with a sharp tug of nostalgia what it feels like, to be young and reckless and invincible.

-

Liam’s actually a little impressed with the amount of beer the other four manage to put away. Harry and Louis are doing some sort of dance together that looks vaguely like polka, kicking up sand everywhere, Harry’s face twisted in concentration while Louis mostly just hops around off beat. Niall’s taken over half the blanket, laughing uproariously at them. Liam and Zayn are squeezed together on the other half, Zayn draped half across Liam’s lap.

“’S nice, isn’t it?” he slurs into Liam’s neck. “Bein’ here, wi’ you.”

Liam’s arm tightens around Zayn and he burrows deeper into Liam’s side, one of his legs thrown casually across Liam’s lap. “’M so happy I met you. Met all of you,” he mumbles.

“Me too,” Liam says softly, running his hand up and down over Zayn’s back. Zayn sighs happily and melts against Liam, who has to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat. He’s so selfish, he thinks bitterly, that Zayn’s given him so much and he still wants _more_. That he can’t be satisfied, just being Zayn’s friend. That his traitorous brain has to catalogue every smile, every coy look that Zayn probably doesn’t even realize he’s giving Liam. That his stupid heart won’t stop pounding away against his ribcage whenever he’s around Zayn, like it’s trying to beat its way out of Liam’s chest.

“Li,” Zayn murmurs after a minute. “C’n you. C’n you help m’up? I gotta piss.”

“You’re the one who’s on top of me,” Liam points out with the logic of a sober person. Zayn leans back, smiling lazily and Liam shakes his head, lips tugging up in an involuntary grin. With a grunt, he pushes to his feet, dragging Zayn with him.

“So strong,” Zayn mumbles.

Zayn insists with drunken conviction that he does not want to piss in front of the others, so Liam has to help him climb over the rocks so Zayn can find some privacy behind a bush. He stumbles quite a bit, but Liam is there to steady him every time.

He waits a polite distance while Zayn pisses. From here, the rocks block his view of the others on their hidden piece of beach. He can hear the occasional laugh, but mostly just the soothing sound of the waves crashing against the shore and crickets chirping cheerily in the night.

After a minute, Zayn staggers his way back to Liam, leaning against his side. Liam’s arm comes up automatically to wrap around Zayn, holding him tightly.

“Don’ tell Louis,” Zayn says suddenly. “But you’re secretly m’favorite.”

Liam’s face hurts, he’s smiling so hard. “Yeah?” he asks, barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah,” Zayn confirms, nodding his head. He smiles up at Liam. “Like you _so_ much. More ‘n you know, even.”

“I like you too, Zayn.”

For some reason, that makes Zayn frown. “No, no, I mean…” he trails off, staring hard at Liam’s face like it’s a puzzle to be solved. His gaze snags on Liam’s mouth and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Zayn?” Liam questions cautiously. He’s having a hard time focusing on anything other than the deafening throb of his heart.

“Liam,” Zayn breathes out, and suddenly there’s the warm pressure of his mouth against Liam’s, a gentle press of lips. Liam gasps, caught off guard, and Zayn makes a little sound, taking advantage to deepen the kiss, the slick tip of his tongue teasing against Liam’s.

Zayn pulls away after a long moment, panting a little, his mouth a bruised red. Liam reaches out involuntarily to touch, but the notices the way Zayn’s eyes are wide and panicked and abruptly stills his hand.

“Fuck,” Zayn chokes out, and promptly throws up all over Liam’s shoes.

-

Liam types out and deletes no less than twenty texts to Zayn the next day, but can’t find the courage to hit the send button. He’s sure that if he can figure out the right combination of words, he can fix this mess, but everything he writes sounds stupid and inadequate.

He’s working on draft number twenty-one when his phone vibrates in his hand with a text from Zayn. With shaky fingers, Liam opens the message.

**_i don’t remember much from last night, but i think i owe u a new pair of shoes. sorry._ **

Liam’s stomach drops, twisting uncomfortably in his gut. He’d tried to prepare himself for the likelihood that Zayn would brush it off as a drunken mistake, that they’d go back to just being friends, and that he’d have to find a way to live with knowing the taste of Zayn’s lips.

(He’d also, stupidly, thought maybe – maybe his crush wasn’t so one-sided after all. God, was he _stupid_.)

It never occurred to him that Zayn might not even remember.

He types out a text, hits send before he can change his mind.

**_no worries broo. you can join the club with niall lol. so u really dont remember anyhting????_ **

It takes Zayn almost twenty minutes to respond.

**_think i went for a piss and then puked on your shoes? its kinda a blur. seriously, im really sorry liam_ **

Liam stares at the text until his eyesight goes blurry. He ignores his mom when she calls him down to dinner later, lying face down on his bed and blasting Drake in his headphones.

-

Things are sort of weird, after that. Zayn pulls through with his promise and buys Liam a new pair of shoes, handing them over with a sheepish smile despite Liam’s protests. Either he really did forget the kiss, or he’s doing a bang-up job of pretending, because he acts like nothing’s changed between them.

Something has changed, though. It’s subtle, so subtle that the other boys don’t notice, but Liam has spent his summer studying the nuances of Zayn’s expressions, learning all the ways to make his eyes crinkle in delight, cataloguing Zayn’s soft touches and softer glances.

Zayn still touches him, but it’s quick and fleeting, Zayn always pulling away like Liam’s skin has burned him. His smiles are a little tighter, a little more forced, sometimes dropping off his face altogether whenever he catches Liam’s gaze on him.

Harry and Niall don’t seem to notice at all, and Liam wonders if maybe it’s all in his head, a product of his lovesick brain. Zayn still comes with them to Curly’s and Liam pretends like it doesn’t break his heart, watching the way Zayn’s gaze lingers on Harry’s face, but skids right over Liam like he isn’t even there.

Behind the counter, Louis catches his eye, jerking his head minutely towards Zayn in question and Liam shrugs helplessly. It makes Louis frown, a wrinkle between his eyebrows, and Liam slumps miserably in his seat.

“Just leave it, Lou,” he begs quietly.

“We’re gonna talk about this, Liam,” Louis promises, but then another customer comes in and he has to go.

Liam glances over at Zayn to make sure he didn’t witness any of the exchange, but he needn’t have worried. Zayn’s giggling at something Harry said, his eyes barely more than slits, he’s smiling so hard.

Liam pushes the last of his ice cream away, suddenly not hungry, even though chocolate is his very favorite.

-

Between his and Louis’ work schedules and a few made-up excuses about his mom making him do chores, Liam manages to avoid Louis for a record three days. He’s finally caught out when Louis comes over, unannounced, and ambushes Liam in his bedroom, where he’d been stoically lying on his back, staring at the cracks in the ceiling.

“Cleaning out the gutters, huh? Funny, because it looks to me like you’re actually lying around in bed, _moping_.”

Liam shrugs. There’s a pause, and then Louis is climbing into bed next to Liam, wedging himself in despite the fact that it’s a single and Liam is sprawled over most of it.

“What’s up with you and Zayn?” he asks, going straight for the jugular.

“Nothing,” Liam lies. It earns him a nipple twist from Louis and Liam’s hand comes up automatically to grab Louis’.

Louis turns his hand in Liam’s until he’s holding it properly. “It’s obviously not nothing,” Louis murmurs, fingers squeezing around Liam’s.

Liam’s quiet for a long moment, but for once in his life, Louis is patient. He waits until Liam gathers his thoughts, lets Liam explain in halting words about the drunk kiss, the fact that Zayn claims he doesn’t remember, the subtle ways he’s been shutting Liam out ever since.

“It’s stupid,” Liam mumbles. “’M being stupid. I’m probably just imagining the whole thing, anyway.”

 “Oh, Liam,” Louis says, and then he’s wrapping Liam up in a hug. Liam clings to him, breathing a little ragged, but he manages not to cry, so he’ll count it as a win.

Louis pulls back so he can look Liam in the eye. “You’re not being stupid, okay? You – god, you should see the way you look at Zayn. You’re so stupid over him, it’s ridiculous.”

“Thought you said I wasn’t stupid,” Liam mumbles, trying on a small smile.

Louis chucks him under the chin. “Stupidly in love, maybe. But _you’re_ not stupid, Liam. And, besides – the way you look at Zayn? I’m telling you, Li, he looks at you the exact same way.”

Liam snorts.

“I’m being serious!” Louis protests. “I would not lie to you about something like this, Liam.”

“Louis, he doesn’t look at me _at all_ , anymore. Forgive me if I’m having a hard time believing you.”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t know what he’s playing at, I’ll give you that, but I’m telling you, this thing isn’t one-sided. It’s _not_ ,” he repeats at the look on Liam’s face. “And anyway, it’s not like he pulled anyone else away for a secret kiss, even if he was drunk. It’s _you_ , Liam.”

Liam changes the subject to the new Spiderman movie and Louis lets him, which is how Liam knows that this isn’t over. Louis never gives up without a fight.

-

Louis doesn’t bring it up again and it lulls Liam into a false sense of security. Things are still a little tense with Zayn, but Liam’s getting better at dealing with the tight clench in his gut whenever Zayn goes out of his way to sit next to Harry, or laughs loudly at Niall’s jokes and smiles politely at Liam’s.

Sometimes, Louis will catch his eye afterwards and it’s both gratifying that someone else notices, that it’s not just in Liam’s head, and really horrible, because it means that it’s real.

They’re sitting around the pier, everyone’s legs dangling over the edge save for Zayn’s, who’s curled into his customary ball, as far from the edge as possible.

“Nice day for a swim,” Louis comments casually and Liam is immediately on alert.

“We should go skinny dipping,” Harry suggests, like it isn’t the middle of the afternoon and there aren’t still people on the beach.

“Brilliant idea, as usual, Harold,” Louis agrees and Liam rolls his eyes.

Niall looks amused. “I’m down f’that. We could go later t’night, be an adventure, hey?”

“Absolutely not,” Zayn argues. “’M not taking my clothes off, and ‘m not getting in the ocean. There are, like, fish in there.”

“I’m with Zayn,” Liam adds. Zayn shoots him a grateful look before he remembers that he’s ignoring Liam. He drops his gaze to his knees and Liam feels sick.

Louis doesn’t miss the exchange, glancing back and forth between Zayn and Liam before his gaze finally settles on Zayn, a thoughtful look on his face. “Are you and Liam going to sit back on the beach then, and watch the rest of us like a couple of perverts? That’s some strange foreplay, but I’m not one to judge.”

“Louis,” Liam says warningly, but Louis bulldozes right over him.

“What’s the matter, Zayn? What’s a little nudity between friends?”

“I told you, I’m not going. Drop it, okay?” It’s the first time Liam’s ever heard Zayn sound genuinely annoyed. For all his tattoos and black leather, Zayn is remarkably gentle-hearted.

“Louis,” Liam says again. “Leave it alone, all right? He doesn’t want to go.”

Harry and Niall are watching the exchange with bemused expressions on their faces. Louis opens his mouth, looking like he has no intention of dropping the subject, when Zayn suddenly climbs to his feet. He mutters something that sounds like “fuck this” and takes off down the pier, walking away without a backwards glance.

Liam rounds on Louis. “What the hell was that?”

Louis looks back at him defiantly and it clicks. With a groan, he grabs Louis and drags him halfway down the pier, away from Harry and Niall. “For fuck’s sake, Lou,” he growls once they’re out of earshot. “You don’t need to protect me, all right? This is – it’s between me and Zayn, okay? There’s no reason for you to get involved, too.”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Louis snaps. “Zayn’s doing that enough for the both of you. Just – listen, you’re my best friend, and he’s hurting you.” Louis runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, Liam, I promised Zayn I wouldn’t say anything, and I’m not going to break that promise, but – you need to talk to him, okay? Make him explain himself.”

“You talked to Zayn?”

“Obviously. If you thought I’d sit back and let my friends hurt each other, then you really are an idiot.”

“ _Louis_.”

He doesn’t budge. “Talk to him, Li.” He turns back towards Harry and Niall and Liam reaches out to stop him. “Wait. Do you mean right now?”

Louis just raises his eyebrow at him. “Unless you want to spend the rest of summer being miserable?”

-

Zayn hasn’t made it all that far by the time Liam catches up to him. He’s sitting on one of the benches that overlook the beach, cigarette clutched tightly in his fingers and smoke curling from his lips. He doesn’t look up when Liam sits down cautiously next to him, but he doesn’t move away either.

Liam has no idea where to start this conversation. Louis wasn’t exactly specific in his instructions.

“Sorry about Louis,” he finally says, when Zayn’s smoked his cigarette nearly down to the filter. Zayn flicks the butt to the ground, grinds it out with the heel of his boot.

He sighs. “You’re not the one who needs to apologize, Liam.”

It’s the first time he’s said Liam’s name since the kiss. Not that Liam’s been keeping track, or anything ridiculous like that. Liam takes a deep breath. “I mean, you probably won’t get an apology from Louis.”

Zayn shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He reaches towards his pack like he’s going for another cigarette, but stops himself. “I’m the one who should apologize. To you,” he clarifies.

“Oh,” Liam says faintly.

“I don’t know what Louis told you,” he starts.

Liam shakes his head. “Nothing. Just that we needed to talk. And that I should, um, make you explain yourself.”

Zayn laughs, but there’s not much humor in it. “Right. Guess that’s pretty fair.” He’s quiet for another minute, fingers plucking nervously along the seam on his jeans. Liam can hear him swallow audibly before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“So, like. The thing is, Liam. I, um. I really like you.”

Liam wonders if Zayn knows that he’s echoing the words he said to Liam that night. Zayn glances up, catching his eye and Liam gets his answer.

“You didn’t forget, did you?” he asks softly.

“No, I didn’t. Can’t stop thinking about it, actually. It was pretty perfect, until the bit where I threw up.”

Liam grins. “Did kinda ruin the moment.”

Zayn smiles back, a bit sheepishly. “Not one of my prouder moments. Wouldn’t mind forgetting that part, actually.” His expression turns serious. “Look, I’m sorry, okay, about the way I’ve been treating you. You don’t – you deserve better than that.”

Liam feels like a half-ton weight has been lifted from his shoulders. It gives him enough courage to ask about the other half-ton still pulling him down. “Why’d you do it, then?”

Dropping his gaze back to his knees, Zayn sighs again. “I’m leaving, at the end of summer. That’s barely, like, a month and a half away. I’m already – god, Liam. I already know I’m going to miss all you guys so much, you know? And I can’t, like,” he lets out a frustrated breath. “It’s going to be hard enough, saying goodbye to you if we’re just friends. I don’t think I can do it, if we’re… more than that.”

Liam sits there in shocked silent as he processes Zayn’s words. It hits him like a tidal wave, and suddenly he’s laughing, laughing so hard he can hardly breathe.

“Jesus, Li, are you okay? What the hell, what’s so funny?”

“You…” Liam chokes out. “You… ignored me… be-because… you _like_ me. I thought… oh my god, Zayn… thought… you… _hated_ … me.” He can’t stop laughing, relief washing over him.

Zayn looks a bit stricken. “Shit, no, I never – of course I don’t hate you, fuck, Liam.”

Liam manages to more or less regain his composure, little hiccupping laughs occasionally still escaping. Zayn still looks concerned, but there’s a cautious smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I could never hate you, Liam,” he says softly. “I just, like. I don’t know how to be around you, without constantly _wanting_ you. I thought, I dunno, things would be easier if I just… pushed you away.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Liam informs him. “No, listen to me,” he continues before Zayn can protest. “So what if there’s a time limit? The rest of the boys are leaving, too, at the end of the summer. Going off to college, to bigger and better things. It’s gonna hurt, saying goodbye to them, but do you think I’m gonna waste what time I have left?”

“It’s different,” Zayn protests. “You and me… it’s not the same.”

“I know,” Liam admits. “But… are you telling me you’d rather, like, be miserable for the rest of the summer, when we could be making out instead?”

Zayn looks at his mouth a long moment before responding. “You have a compelling argument,” he concedes. “But do you have any idea how much it’s going to suck when it inevitably comes to an end?”

“It’s going to suck either way,” Liam points out. “And I’m going to be honest with you, Zayn, I’d rather spend the rest of summer kissing you, instead of just thinking about it.” Liam scoots down the bench until his thigh is pressed against Zayn’s, grabs Zayn’s hand to still his fingers where they’re still rubbing nervously over the fabric of his jeans.

Zayn glances up at him, his face so close that Liam could count each individual lash.

“’M gonna regret this, aren’t I?” he murmurs.

“I’m not,” Liam promises and leans forward to close the distance between them. Zayn sighs against his lips, the hand not entwined in Liam’s coming around to rest at the nape of Liam’s neck. He pulls away after a moment, but keeps his forehead pressed against Liam’s, breathing a little ragged.

“You’re going to break my heart, you know,” he mumbles. Liam tightens his grip around Zayn, pulling him in close to kiss him again.

-

They walk back to the pier a short time later, despite Liam’s perfectly sensible suggestion that they go to his bedroom and never ever leave. Zayn just smiled dopily at him and tugged him along by the hand, saying they really needed to talk to Louis.

“Why? He’s just going to gloat. He loves being right. We don’t need to give him the satisfaction.”

“Well, he was really, _really_ right this time. And I, um. I need to make sure he’s not mad at me.”

Louis takes one look at their clasped hands and grins. “So, you two got everything sorted, then?”

Niall looks up from where he’s got a squirming Harry pinned beneath him – one day, someone’s going to get a splinter in their ass if they don’t quit wrestling on the pier – and whoops excitedly. “Finally! Get in, Payno!”

Harry writhes around under Niall until he relents and lets him up, grinning widely at Liam and Zayn. The grin turns to a pout when Niall elbows him and announces that Harry owes him $20.

“Niall. Why does Harry owe you $20?” Liam asks with suspicion as Harry begrudgingly digs his wallet out of his pocket.

“Oh, no reason,” he says carelessly, snatching the bill from Harry’s hand and shoving it into his own pocket. Louis’s face is red with the effort not to laugh.

“Did you… oh my god, did you guys _bet_ on when we’d get together?”

Zayn looks amused and a little embarrassed. “Thought I was a sure thing, huh?”

Liam squeezes his hand reassuringly and suddenly has an armful of Harry, who’s either giving them an enthusiastic hug or doing his best octopus impression.

“That’s the thing about true love, isn’t it?” he asks dreamily. “It’s always a sure thing.”

Liam doesn’t even feel bad when Louis pushes Harry off the pier with a loud splash.

-

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m not doing this,” Zayn says later. He’s got his feet planted firmly on the dry sand, arms crossed over his chest.

Harry pulls his shirt over his head and whips it in Zayn’s general direction. His jeans follow a minute later, because if there’s going to be naked activities, then of course Harry’s going to be the first one to strip.

Niall and Louis aren’t far behind, leaving their clothes in a growing pile on the beach, out of the long reach of the tide.

“It’s okay, Zayn. I’ll stay here with you,” Liam promises.

“I cannot believe you two are not taking advantage of this opportunity to see each other naked,” Louis complains loudly. He’s down to just his underwear, fingers already hooked under the elastic to pull it off.

“Not everyone is into exhibitionism, Lou,” Zayn answers with amusement.

“Such a shame,” Harry sighs. He seems entirely unconcerned that he’s standing there stark naked, hands on his hips as he looks at Zayn and Liam with something like disappointment. Zayn turns to muffle his laugh into Liam’s neck, and after being unable to touch Zayn for so long, today has been an overload of affection.

Liam slings his arm around Zayn, rubbing his hand absentmindedly up and down his side.

“You fucks gonna stand around ‘n admire your cocks all night, or are we goin’ ‘t do this?” Niall asks impatiently. He’s already knee-deep in the water, glancing back over his shoulder to see who’s going to follow.

“Last one in buys a round of drinks!” Louis shouts, charging forward into the ocean with a splash.

“We’re not even old enough to buy drinks,” Harry whines, stumbling in after him. Niall laughs gleefully, diving into a wave and surfacing a moment later, wet hair plastered to his head. Louis tries to dunk him and Liam sort of loses track of who’s who after that, only getting random snatches of glistening skin amongst the splashing.

He glances over at Zayn, who’s somehow managing to look equal parts fond and disgusted. Liam jerks his head towards the piles of clothing littering the beach.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Zayn grins slyly. “Lou’s going to be so pissed.”

-

Louis threatens to kill them in an impressive variety of innovative ways, but Zayn and Liam are too busy choking on their laughter at the sight of him scrambling naked over the rocks to retrieve his clothes to care.

-

Now that he’s committed to the whole more than friends thing, Zayn seems determined not to waste any time. He shows up at Curly’s with a list in hand, sliding it over the table to Liam.

“What’s this?” Harry asks, snatching it up before Liam has a chance. Zayn reaches frantically to grab it back, but Harry holds it high above his head with his stupid pool noodle arms.

“It’s _not yours_ ,” Zayn emphasizes, trying to tug Harry’s arm down from across the table. Niall makes his appearance then, swaggering into the shop fresh from the boat, if the sharp stench of fish is any indication. He grabs the paper from Harry with ease and Zayn drops his head onto the table in defeat.

“What kinda fuckin’ to do list is this? ‘Kiss in the rain’? ‘Stargaze’? What the hell, Malik, I never pegged ya f’such a romantic.”

Zayn doesn’t lift his head, so his reply is mostly muffled into his arm. Liam’s pretty sure he can guess, though.

“Oh my god, Zayn, did you make a list of all the adorable cliché things you want to do with Liam before the end of summer?” Harry sounds like Christmas came early, positively giddy with excitement.

Niall’s shaking his head, still pouring over the list. “You didn’t even include blow jobs. This list is shit. No offense, mate.”

“Lucky it’s not meant for you, then, isn’t it?” Zayn grouses, finally lifting his head. His cheeks are definitely tinged pink and Liam’s chest is honestly a little tight with how much fondness he has for this boy.

“Can I see the list?” he asks and Niall hands it over without a fight. Liam skims it over, sees ‘learn to swim’ and ‘marathon the Batman movies’ and ‘get a tattoo’ and looks up to meet Zayn’s eyes. Zayn’s looking back at him, biting his lip nervously.

“You wanna do all this? With me?”

Zayn shrugs, but can’t seem to help the way his eyes are crinkled with the force of his smile. “Go big or go home, yeah? And since I have to go home eventually anyway…”

Liam leans across the table to catch Zayn’s mouth in a kiss, because that’s a thing he gets to do now. When he pulls away, Harry and Niall are giving him and Zayn a polite golf clap.

“9.0” Harry announces.

“Thought your technique was a bit sloppy. I can’t in good faith give ya more than an 8.5.”

Zayn bites his lip again, but it’s not exactly a nervous tick this time. He reaches across the table to grab hold of Liam’s shirt and tugs him closer until he can slant his mouth against Liam’s, kissing him breathless.

Louis kicks them out for reasons of obscenity, which Liam thinks is a little hypocritical. Harry and Niall both give them perfect scores, though, so it’s not all a loss.

-

Between Liam’s shifts at the grocery store and hanging out with the boys, Liam and Zayn somehow find time to check off a good chunk of Zayn’s list over the next few weeks.

They spend a rainy afternoon cuddled up on Liam’s sofa, watching all the Batman movies and eating a truly obscene amount of popcorn. When the last of the credits roll, Zayn’s reluctant to actually go outside in the rain, insisting he didn’t think it through.

“My hair will get fucked up,” he whines, even as Liam is dragging him towards the door.

“You’re the one that wants to kiss in the rain, Malik. Besides, I like when you leave your hair down. Makes you look, I dunno, softer.”

“Such a sap, Liam,” Zayn teases, like he’s not the one who wrote a romantic to do list in the first place.

Kissing in the rain, it turns out, is mostly wet and kind of cold, but there are some perks (like seeing Zayn strip off his soaked t-shirt afterwards, revealing more tattoos Liam didn’t know about. Liam spends the next hour tracing them with his tongue - in the name of science, of course - and finally concludes that they don’t taste any different than the rest of Zayn’s skin.)

Liam borrows the car from his mom to drive them into the city and they only get a bit lost finding the tattoo parlor Zayn read reviews about online. Liam holds Zayn’s hand while he gets a massive heart inked on his hipbone, solid and black against his tanned skin. He surprises Zayn when he tells the tattoo guy that he wants one, too.

He can’t stop prodding at the bandage on his forearm during the drive home, nearly crashing them and forcing Zayn to grip the dashboard with white knuckles until Liam pulls safely to a stop in the driveway. Later, Zayn gently rubs antiseptic cream over the ink, even though Liam could probably do that himself.

“Four arrows, huh?” he asks after reapplying the gauze.

Liam shrugs. “Looks sick, doesn’t it?”

“Very sick, bro.” Zayn agrees, pressing a gentle kiss to Liam’s palm. He doesn’t bring it up again, but Liam catches him glancing at Liam’s arm the rest of the night, fingertips running over the chevron closest to Liam’s pulse.

-

Liam’s stocking milk, goosebumps breaking out over his skin in the frigid air, when someone warm and solid presses against his back, gentle hands covering his eyes.

“Guess who?” a familiar voice asks.

“Hmm,” Liam ponders, lips pulling up into a smile. “I have no idea. Give me a hint?”

“A _hint_ ,” the voice repeats gleefully, hot breath tickling his ear. A moment later comes the press of lips against Liam’s neck, open-mouthed kisses trailing from behind his ear to the place where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Nnngh,” Liam stutters out. “Not here – christ, Zayn, I’m _at work_.”

“’S kinda hot,” Zayn murmurs, still kissing Liam’s neck, one of his hands trailing down teasingly over Liam’s chest.

Liam presses his forehead against the cooler door, willing himself not to get an erection in the dairy aisle. “Please, Zayn,” he begs. “Can we – later?”

Mercifully, Zayn takes a step back, putting a foot of space between himself and Liam. Liam turns around, keeping his back pressed to the cold door, and Zayn grins back at him. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Louis,” Liam accuses. Zayn laughs brightly.

“Actually, I swear, I came here with honest intentions. Wanna check something else off the list.”

“Anything,” Liam says instantly and Zayn laughs again, his whole face crinkled with the effort. He leans forward to capture Liam’s lips in another kiss, and Liam’s so far gone over Zayn that he doesn’t even put up a token fight, just melts into it like his bones have turned to rubber.

“Want you to teach me to swim,” Zayn mumbles when he finally pulls back.

Liam opens his eyes, surprised. “Really? But you hate sand. And, like. Water.”

Shrugging, Zayn looks at Liam beneath his lashes. “I put it on the list, didn’t I? Anyway, like,” he licks his lips and Liam can’t help the way his eyes track the movement. “I’ve been told skinny dipping is fun. Think maybe I’d like to try it out.”

Liam swallows. “Can’t exactly say no to that, can I?”

-

He feels a little guilty, not inviting the other boys, at least until Zayn pulls his shirt over his head and lets it drop to the beach, sand be damned.

The moon is just a sliver of a crescent, but there’s a splash of glittering stars piercing the sky, and it’s enough light to see the contours of Zayn’s chest, the sharp contrast of his dark tattoos against smooth skin. Zayn glances over his shoulder at Liam, profile caught in the starlight, and it’s the most breathtaking sight Liam’s ever seen.

That is, until Zayn wriggles out of his skinny jeans, kicking them off when they get caught around his ankle, and then he’s standing on the beach in front of Liam in nothing but boxer-briefs.

“Feels like you’re a little overdressed, bro,” he teases and oh, right. Liam tugs his own shirt off, hands fumbling at the button on his jeans until he finally gets it unfastened, shoving them off until he’s as bare as Zayn.

Smiling back at him, Zayn bites his lip, fingertips resting on the waistband of his underwear. “I know, like, Harry and co are pretty casual about getting naked, but…”

Liam grins back. “You and me. It’s different, right?”

“Shut up!” Zayn laughs. “It _is_ different, okay? I don’t exactly wanna touch any of their dicks.”

“And here I was, thinking we were here for a swimming lesson,” Liam pouts.

With an eye-scrunching grin, Zayn presses into Liam’s space until they’re nose to nose, toe to toe. “I may have had ulterior motives,” he confesses in a whisper against Liam’s lips. Liam tries to kiss him, but it turns out it’s hard to kiss and smile at the same time.

Pulling away from Zayn, Liam steps back until there are waves grabbing at his feet. He hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers, tugging them teasingly low. He watches with satisfaction as Zayn’s gaze drops, lips parted in a gasp.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to come in the water, if you want to do any dick touching,” Liam says, mock serious. He turns his back to Zayn before stripping off his underwear, because he can’t, like – Zayn’s gaze is almost too much. He splashes a little deeper before diving under the waves, surfacing when the water is waist-high.

Zayn’s still standing on the beach in his underwear, toes clear of the lapping waves, looking sadly at Liam. It’s all Liam can do, not to storm the beach and sweep Zayn up in his arms.

“Nope,” he says aloud. “You need to come to me, babe. I promise you, the fish are more afraid of you than you are of them.”

Zayn eyes the water warily. “What about sharks? I’ve seen _Jaws_ , Liam. Sharks don’t even have souls.”

“Neither does Louis. Please, Zayn. I won’t let anything hurt you, okay?”

Letting out a shaky breath, Zayn slowly nods. “Okay. Fine. But… can you, like, turn around? Just for a second.”

Liam turns around until his back is towards Zayn, biting his lip to smother the smile that’s trying to spread across his face. He waits a moment, hearing nothing but the rush of the waves against the shore, until finally the deliberate sound of someone sloshing through water reaches his ears.

He waits until Zayn’s warm hands reach his back, curling around his hips in a tight grip. Liam is suddenly very aware that he’s completely naked; that the dark water might prevent Zayn from seeing much, but that there’s nothing to separate them if Zayn takes a half step closer. It’s a heady thought and Liam’s pulse is suddenly thrumming overtime.

Zayn’s hands settle over his stomach, and he steps close enough that Liam can feel the hint of warmth at his back, but Zayn leaves a few inches of space between them. He rests his forehead against Liam’s shoulder, arms clinging like he needs to be anchored.

Taking a deep breath, Liam turns slowly until he’s facing Zayn, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s skinny shoulders.

“Hi,” he whispers, feeling a bit giddy.

“Hi, yourself,” Zayn whispers back, face carved into a wide grin.

Sliding his hand down until it’s nearly resting on Zayn’s ass, Liam grins back. “Ocean’s not so bad, is it?” he murmurs, hands kneading over Zayn’s skin.

With a wicked smile, Zayn shuffles closer until he’s pressed chest to chest with Liam. “Not bad at all,” he agrees, canting his hips so they catch against Liam’s. Liam can’t help the groan that escapes, breathing hotly against the skin of Zayn’s neck. “Christ, Zayn,” Liam stutters. “Thought you wanted to learn how to swim.”

Zayn tilts his face up towards Liam, even as he grinds his hips dirtily. Liam can’t choke back the sound that escapes. Catching his mouth in a soft kiss, Zayn pulls back a moment later. “Told you I had ulterior motives.”

So, like. Maybe Zayn doesn’t learn to swim, exactly. But Liam learns what Zayn’s face looks like when he comes, caught in the white glow of starlight, which is a better lesson, anyway.

They collapse on the beach after, trying to catch their breath, until Zayn complains bitterly that he’s covered in sand. He’s not mollified until Liam promises him a shower, complete with a thorough washing and deep kisses, as long as he jumps over the squeaky step so his parents don’t know.

Zayn falls asleep in Liam’s bed, skin still damp and hair in soft tufts around his face. Liam wraps his arm around Zayn, spooning him close, and prays to any god that will listen that summer lasts forever.

-

Liam’s prayers go unanswered and the end of summer looms closer and closer like a ticking time bomb.

Flyers begin to litter the windows of the grocery store and the ice cream shop and nearly every other business in town. Zayn snags a copy of one, holding it up towards Liam with big eyes.

“What’s this all about?” he asks.

Niall grabs the flyer and slides it across the table until it’s facing him. “’S only the biggest event of the summer,” he informs Zayn. “Well, actually, it’s the _last_ big event of the summer. The carnival’s like, the last big bash before everyone has ‘t go back ‘t school.”

Zayn’s eyebrows lift at that. “What the fuck, is this town literally a parody of _Grease_?”

With a predatory grin, Harry leers back at him. “Look me in the eye, Zayn, and tell me that you don’t wanna rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong?”

“I’m going to be the bigger person and pretend you never said that,” Zayn replies, lips slanted in a skeptical line.

Louis waves his hand dismissively. “Whatever. Summer carnivals are hardly a cliché.” Both Harry and Zayn give him a look and Louis sighs dramatically. “Fine. Fine! Summer carnivals _are_ a cliché, but they’re, like, a _thing_. They’re a thing that happens outside of movies! That’s all I meant, Jesus.”

Harry turns towards Liam with an air of importance. “So are you and Zayn going to ride the Ferris wheel? It’s probably the single most romantic thing people can do,” he adds knowingly.

“Zayn doesn’t like heights,” Liam says, at the same time Zayn blurts out, “Ferris wheels are a terrible cliché, worse than carnivals even.”

“Ahh,” Harry replies, lips pulled into a smile that shows off his dimples fetchingly. “Liam gonna win you a teddy bear instead, then?”

Crossing his arms, Zayn scoffs. “If you think a healthy fear of untrustworthy carnival machinery means that _I_ can’t win the fuckin’ prize, you’re sorely mistaken, Styles. Mark my words, I’ll win Liam whatever prize he wants.”

“Consider your words marked,” Harry agrees, leaning into Niall’s side. Liam has the distinct impression he’s lost, despite not knowing he was in the middle of a competition. Zayn doesn’t look like he has any intention of admitting defeat, though, so Liam thinks maybe it isn’t over yet.

-

The night before the carnival, Liam surprises Zayn when he pulls up in front of his house in his mom’s car, instead of his bike. Zayn leans against the car door, head poking through the open window.

“We going somewhere special then?”

Liam shrugs, biting his lip. “Get in and find out.”

With a laugh, Zayn complies, sliding into the passenger seat and clicking his seatbelt into place. He laces his fingers through Liam’s on the cup-holder between them and lets his head loll back against the headrest, eyes closed, content to let Liam drive them wherever he wants.

Liam turns the radio up, some overplayed song blasting out of the speakers, before pulling away. He drives down dark, quiet streets, lit only by the occasional orange glow of a streetlight, until they reach the parking lot that overlooks the beach.

Liam shoves the car into park, turning the key until the engine shuts off. Zayn glances over, raising his brow. “Liam?”

“What if, like,” Liam starts, swallowing against the sudden influx of salvia in his mouth. “What if I wanna do more than just kiss you, Zayn. Is that all right?”

Zayn’s silent for a moment. “I mean, like… _obviously_ , that’s okay. More than okay, even. But – where exactly can we go? I’m not fucking around on the beach again.”

Liam glances towards the backseat. “It’s – we’re pretty secluded, parked here. Might be a little cramped, but…”

He doesn’t have to wait for an answer from Zayn, because he’s already unclipping his seatbelt and scrambling into the backseat. “What’re you waiting for?” he asks when he sees Liam still sitting there in the driver’s seat, staring blankly.

“Right,” Liam says, climbing between the seats into the back after Zayn. He ends up half on top of him, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind, smiling up at him like Liam hung the fucking moon. He looks so kissable that Liam can’t resist, leaning down until he can press his lips to Zayn’s. Zayn sighs into the kiss, wrapping his arm around Liam to pull him closer.

Eventually, Liam has to pull away to breath, and Zayn looks up at him with dark eyes, lounging back on the leather seat like it’s a king-sized bed instead of a cramped backseat.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he complains, tugging at the hem of Liam’s t-shirt. “No one’s mom or sister is going to walk in on us, I want you naked.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Liam huffs, but it comes out muffled because he’s pulling his shirt over his head. Zayn somehow shimmies out of his own shirt and reaches up to wrap his hand around the back of Liam’s neck, pulling him down for another sound kiss. His hips start grinding in small, dirty circles against Liam’s, but Liam didn’t borrow his mom’s car to come in his pants, still half-dressed.

“Wait,” he pants out, pushing himself off Zayn. Zayn lets out a sound that Liam would probably classify as whine, but Zayn would vehemently deny. With shaking fingers, Liam runs his hands down Zayn’s skinny chest until he reaches the waistband of his jeans. He fumbles a bit, but manages to get it unbuttoned, jerking the zipper down and palming the bulge he finds there.

Zayn lets out a low groan, head thrown back against the seat. “Jesus, Liam,” he gasps out.

“Lift your hips,” Liam instructs, tugging at Zayn’s jeans and boxers. He manages to get everything halfway down Zayn’s thighs before he runs out of room, back pressed to the car door. Zayn pulls himself up a bit until he’s resting more against the other door than the seat in an attempt to give Liam more room. He tries to squirm the rest of the way out of his jeans, but Liam’s too impatient and grabs his hips to still him.

“No, no, this is fine,” Liam pants, shifting until he’s crouched over Zayn.

“Liam. What are you – _ohh_.” Zayn cuts himself off when Liam wraps a hand around Zayn’s cock, tentatively mouthing at the head. It’s not ideal, sucking Zayn off in the backseat of the family car, and it’s not like Liam has much experience, but if the sounds he manages to pull out of Zayn are any indication, he’s managing all right.

Zayn twines his fingers into Liam’s hair, but doesn’t pull. Liam glances up at him, jaw stretched wide around his cock, and Zayn looks back at him, absolutely wrecked. His chest is heaving and he’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to smother the sounds that keep escaping.

“Li – Li, ‘m gonna – ahh, please, Li--” Zayn gasps, fingers tightening their grip on his hair. It’s all the warning Liam gets before Zayn’s coming down his throat. He pulls back, swallowing rapidly to keep from choking, hand still moving slowly over Zayn’s dick as he tries to catch his breath.

Zayn slumps back, panting raggedly and Liam crawls up his body until he can reach his mouth, capturing his lips in a kiss. Zayn kisses him back lazily, his hand carding gently through Liam’s hair, soothing where he was tugging it a moment ago.

“Niall was right,” he finally mumbles when he’s recovered enough to talk.

“Mmm?” Liam murmurs, mouth pressed to Zayn’s pulse point.

“Blow jobs,” Zayn says. “Shoulda been on the list.”

Liam muffles a laugh into Zayn’s neck. “Please tell me you weren’t thinking of Niall when I had your dick in my mouth. My ego can’t take it.”

With a low growl, Zayn pulls Liam into a fierce kiss. “How ‘bout I return the favor, and you tell me what you think about. I guarantee it won’t be Niall.”

Liam doesn’t register much more than white noise when Zayn slides his wet mouth down his length, eyes slipping closed at the sight of Zayn looking up at him through his lashes, cheeks hollowed obscenely.

He doesn’t think of Niall again as his hips jerk helplessly, pinned down by Zayn’s tight grip. Doesn’t think much at all, even when Zayn settles against his sweaty chest, after. It’s cramped and too hot, the windows fogged and the leather seat sticky against Liam’s skin, but he keeps his arms wrapped around Zayn, holding him close.

Liam presses a soft kiss to Zayn’s temple and doesn’t think about how it feels a little bit like goodbye.

-

Zayn makes the rookie mistake of wearing his leather jacket to the carnival and it only takes twenty minutes after their arrival for everyone to ban Harry from quoting _Grease_ at him.

Harry sulks a bit, but brightens immediately when Niall grabs his hand, tugging him over to the glossy carnival games, painted in eye-popping colors and dripping enticingly with oversized stuffed animals, begging to be won. “C’mon,” Niall cajoles. “You promised me you’d win me a bigger prize than Zayn.”

“Oh, so this is a competition, is it?” Zayn asks.

Harry shrugs. “Marked your words, didn’t I?”

For all their big talk, both Harry and Zayn are remarkably shit at carnival games. “It’s fixed,” Zayn huffs after he misses throwing a little ring around a glass bottle for the seventh time.

“It’s _not_ fixed,” Harry argues. “You just have to get the perfect angle.” Tongue caught between his teeth, Harry lets out a frustrated growl when his next shot goes wide.

Zayn snorts. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“You two are pathetic,” Louis announces, hands on his hips. “Seriously, my grandmother could make that shot. I’m honestly embarrassed to be seen with you.”

Zayn offers Louis his last ring. “Please, Louis. Go right ahead. Blow us away.”

Liam watches with amusement as Louis plucks the ring from Zayn’s fingers with a sniff. He lines up his shot, eyes fixed on the bottle in concentration. The rest of the boys watch with baited breath as Louis releases the ring with a smart snap of his wrist. It sails through the air and catches on the rim of the bottle, spinning alarmingly until it finally settles, squarely on the bottle.

“Winna, winna, winna! We have a winna!” the carnival worker announces. Zayn’s jaw drops in disbelief. Harry and Niall mostly just look impressed as Louis carefully pours over his choices in prizes. He finally settles on a giant, neon pink frog.

“Looks like Harry, doesn’t it?” he asks, delighted. He smacks Niall’s hand away when Niall tries to grab for it. “Nope, this is my prize. Won it for me, since you fucks all paired off.”

“Heyyy,” Harry says. “It’s not like that.”

“If ya don’t win me a prize, then I want a blow job on the top of the Ferris wheel,” Niall declares. Louis raises his brow.

“Okay,” Harry admits. “It might be like that?”

“What happened to getting on Tinder?” Liam asks with confusion.

Niall shrugs. “’M not picky, and Harry’s easy. Seemed like the simplest solution.”

With an eyeroll, Louis tugs his stuffed frog closer. “And they say chivalry’s dead.”

-

After stuffing themselves with sticky cotton candy and overpriced funnel cake, they eventually wind their way through the carnival grounds until they reach the Ferris wheel. It’s lit up with bright colors, flashing red and green and blue lights that drown out the cold starlight.

Louis insists he’s going to take his frog into the cart with him while Harry and Niall argue about the probability of Harry accidentally falling to his death if he actually does try to suck Niall off at the top of the wheel. Niall seems to think it’s pretty likely, but is trying to convince Harry to try it anyway.

Liam turns away from them to watch the way that Zayn is eyeing the Ferris wheel nervously.

“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb over Zayn’s pulse point. “There are other rides we can go on.”

Zayn considers for a moment, head tilted in thought. “Done a lot of scary things this summer, haven’t I? What’s one more?”

Grinning, Liam reaches down to grab Zayn’s hand. “Won’t let go of you. I’ll be right here, okay?”

Zayn smiles back. “That’s my favorite place. Right next to you, Liam.”

Louis is the first to climb into a cart, settling his frog in next to him. Harry and Niall follow, boarding the next one, matching grins on their faces that don’t bode well for Harry’s survival. Then it’s Liam and Zayn’s turn. Zayn crawls in cautiously after Liam, gripping his hand tight. They have to wait for a few more people to board before the ride starts, cart inching higher and higher into the sky. Zayn closes his eyes, turning to bury his face in Liam’s neck.

“I changed my mind. I want to get off,” he mumbles.

Liam grabs Zayn’s other hand so he can slip the arm closer to Zayn around his shoulders, tucking Zayn into his side. “Little late for that,” he says gently. “C’mon, where’s all that courage? Said you did a lot of scary things this summer, didn’t you?”

Zayn’s reply is muffled into Liam’s skin, but he relaxes a bit against his side. With a low creak, the Ferris wheel starts moving, picking up speed until they’re rushing towards the sky at a steady clip. Liam can see the rest of the carnival spread beneath them, a sprawl of bright lights and cheerful colors, crowded with waves of people.

“Zayn, babe, you gotta look,” he pleads. “It’s so – god, it’s so pretty.”

Reluctantly, Zayn lifts his head to peer over the bar holding them in place in time to watch their cart go hurtling downwards with a lurch. Liam lets out a breathless laugh as his tummy swoops and Zayn groans next to him, mashing his face against Liam’s shoulder. “Tell me when it’s over.”

“No, c’mon, you have to see it from the top. It’s worth it, I promise, Zayn.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Zayn mumbles, but he turns his head enough to peek. Liam feels more than hears Zayn gasp next to him as they’re lifted up again, the carnival lights a dizzying blur beneath them.

Their cart finally slows to a stop near the top when the ride’s over, letting out the people at the bottom of the wheel. Zayn’s relaxed enough to look over the edge, but turns his head willingly when Liam catches his jaw with his hand to press his mouth to Zayn’s in a burning kiss.

He pulls back after a moment, fingers still brushing Zayn’s face. “You did it,” he murmurs. “You rode the Ferris wheel.”

“Second scariest thing I’ve done all summer,” Zayn whispers back, keeping a tight hold on Liam’s shoulders.

“Yeah? What was the scariest, then?”

Zayn leans forward to kiss Liam again, fingers digging into his skin when the cart lurches down a notch.

“Falling in love with you,” he finally says, the words so quiet Liam almost misses them.

-

The carnival packs up a few days later, a mess of litter and trodden down grass the only evidence it was ever there at all. The last days of summer follow behind it, and the rest of the boys are kept busy packing, shoving clothes and odds and ends into suitcases and boxes as the start of the semester looms on the horizon.

Louis sits on an unopened box of canned goods, watching silently as Liam restocks canned pineapple and peaches. He’s the only one besides Liam who isn’t leaving, but the jingle of the car keys clasped tightly in his hand is a reminder of the used Ford pick-up sitting in the parking lot. Louis will drive it to his classes this fall, and it’ll drive an inevitable wedge between them as their lives move in different directions.

“It was stupid to buy a pick-up truck,” Liam tells him. “You know you’ll get shit gas mileage.”

“Mmm,” Louis hums noncommittally. “If only there was a solution. Like, I dunno, someone carpooling with me and splitting the cost of gas.”

Liam shoves a can of mandarin oranges onto the shelf with a little more force than necessary. “Lou, we’ve been over this. As soon as a factory job opens up, I’m taking it. My dad’s already talked to the foreman. It’s a done deal.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Louis asks, “What are you afraid of, Liam?”

Liam glances over at Louis to make sure he heard him right. “What? I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Bullshit. Yes, you are. You’re such a hypocrite, honestly. You make Zayn do all these things he’s afraid of, like going in the ocean and riding the damn Ferris wheel, but you know what? Zayn’s not the coward. You are.”

“I don’t _make_ Zayn do anything,” Liam says hotly. “It’s his choice, all right? Just like the factory job is mine. And anyway, what, exactly, is cowardly about getting a real, adult job?

Louis glares at him. “That’s _not_ what’s cowardly. What’s _cowardly_ is that you won’t even give college a chance, because you’re afraid you’re not good enough.”

Liam sucks in a breath like Louis has physically punched him.

“But you are, Li. You _are_ good enough. Why can’t you see that?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just hops off the box and stalks off without a backwards glance. Liam sits back on his heels, surrounded by canned fruit, and feels very, very alone.

-

By an unspoken agreement, the five of them meet on their little patch of beach near sunset on Zayn’s last night. Zayn doesn’t even complain about the sand, watching with dull eyes as Liam spreads his worn blanket. They all squeeze onto it, tangled up in each other’s limbs until it’s hard to tell where one person stops and the next begins.

Louis pulls a six-pack out of nowhere, handed out cans until there’s only one left. He tosses it down at the edge of the blanket, forgotten.

It’s getting dark already, the sun creeping below the horizon earlier and earlier as the summer winds to an end. Louis holds up his can, a dark silhouette in the dusky moonlight.

“It’s been an incredible summer, boys. Here’s to the future.”

“To growing up,” Harry adds.

“To all the memories we’ve made here,” Niall declares.

Next to Liam, Zayn holds up his can. “To overcoming fears.”

“To the best friends I’ve ever had,” Liam says softly, clinking his can against the others’.

There isn’t much talking after that as they sip at their beer; just the familiar sound of the waves rushing against the shore, beating steadily in a constant reminder that everything’s ending, everything’s ending, _everything’s ending_.

-

Liam’s sitting at the end of the pier when Zayn finds him the next day, legs dangling over the edge and toes catching on the waves. Zayn settles down next to him, hanging his own legs off the edge next to Liam’s.

“Thought you hated the water,” Liam comments.

“I do,” Zayn replies, shoulder nudging Liam’s. “Someone’s done a thorough job, though, of convincing me it isn’t all bad.”

“Sounds like a good guy,” Liam says.

The corner of Zayn’s lips turns up in a tiny smile. “Yeah, he really is.”

Liam glances over at him. He has to swallow a few times before he finds his voice. “What time do you leave, then?”

“’Bout an hour from now. Got a few last minute things to pack, then I gotta help my aunt round up my sisters.”

Liam nods, fixing his eyes on the calming pull of the ocean waves. “So, this is it, then.”

“Yeah.”

They sit quietly for a moment, Zayn leaning into Liam’s side like a puzzle piece snapping into place.

“I don’t want this to be it,” Liam finally whispers, breaking the hush that’s settled over them. Zayn turns to press his face into Liam’s neck. “We agreed the long-distance thing would be too hard. Not fair to either of us, yeah? You’ll have your life here, with a new job, and I’ll be starting school in a few days.”

“So what, this is just goodbye then? That’s it, it’s over?”

Zayn smiles sadly. “Told you, didn’t I? That it was stupid to get together, because now--”

“Shut up, Zayn,” Liam says fiercely. “I don’t – I wouldn’t trade this summer for anything, okay? I don’t regret a minute of it, so just. Shut up.”

Zayn leans forward until he can press his forehead against Liam’s. “I love you, you know.”

Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat, Liam wraps his arms around Zayn and tugs him close. “I know,” he whispers into Zayn’s soft hair. “I love you, too.”

Zayn hugs him back for a long moment, arms tight like a vice, before finally pulling away. Liam pretends not to notice the way he scrubs the back of his hand over his eyes.

“Don’t forget me, okay?” Zayn says. “I just – don’t forget about me.”

Liam has to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Zayn again. “Never,” he promises.

With one last shaky attempt at a smile, Zayn turns and walks away.

Liam watches him go until the tears pricking at his eyes turn everything blurry. He swipes at them furiously, but Zayn’s disappeared by the time his vision clears.

-

It’s not any easier saying goodbye to Niall and Harry a few days later. There are more tight hugs, unsuccessful attempts to blink back tears, and fevered promises to Skype soon. Liam stands on the curb, watching them drive away, cars packed full of suitcases and boxes until he and Louis are nothing more than afterthoughts in their review mirrors.

Louis is uncharacteristically quiet, staring down the empty street. When he finally turns back to Liam, his lips are stretched in a tight smile. “Well. Early night for me. Got my first class in the morning.”

Reaching out to grab his arm, Liam blurts out, “wait.”

Louis looks back at him with a questioning eyebrow raise. “Yeah?”

“The community college. I, um,” he licks his lips. “Could I go part-time? Night classes?”

Something loosens in Louis’ smile at Liam’s words. “Yeah, you definitely could. Need to get your application in, but you could probably start next semester.”

“Would you help me? With the application, I mean.”

Louis’ eyes soften. “Course, Li.” He pauses, biting his lip. “You know,” he says carefully after a long moment. “The credits will transfer to most state schools. Make it through a year or two here, and you could transfer to almost any school you want.”

“Zayn’s going to a state school,” Liam says.

Louis’ smile is soft. “I know.”

 

~*~

 

_“I know we agreed the long-distance thing would be a bad idea. And I’m still not convinced it isn’t one. I just know that I miss you so fucking much, Li. I don’t want this to be it, either._

_They have an ocean on the west coast, too. I know you think you’re shit at geography, but that’s at least one fact you definitely know. I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I’ve actually gone to the beach a few times, just to hear the sound of the waves. It reminds me of you, you know? I haven’t gotten brave enough to go in the water yet, but I like the idea that if I do, there’s a chance you could be standing in the same ocean, on the other side of the country._

_It’s a comforting thought.”_

 

“Li? What are you doing?”

With a jerk, Liam lifts his head, tearing his gaze away from the faded ink. Zayn’s peering through the open door at him, face clouded with concern. “Can’t you just wear another tie? C’mon, we’re gonna be late. You know Harry’ll get huffy if we’re late.”

Liam snorts, laying Zayn’s letter down carefully in the old shoebox. “Who even has a black-tie bachelor party? It’s ridiculous.”

“That’s Harry for you,” Zayn says with a smile. “Niall’ll have his hands full after the wedding.”

“I can’t believe they’re actually getting married. With, like, a real, actual wedding. And that _Louis_ gets to be best man.”

“I know,” Zayn agrees. “Thought for sure they’d get hitched in Vegas, too drunk to remember any of it.”

Liam laughs. “I’m not convinced they haven’t. This wedding could just be a cover to keep angry moms at bay.”

“Would explain why they’ve beaten us to the altar,” Zayn muses.

“Mmm. We’ll make it there eventually,” Liam promises. “We’ve got nothing but time.”

Grinning, Zayn leans down to kiss him and it still sends a shock of electricity through Liam, like it’s the very first time. Liam wraps his hand around the back of Zayn’s neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Zayn gives in easily and Liam thinks Harry will forgive them, probably, if they turn up a little late. He leans back on the bed and Zayn follows him down.

Liam was 17 the last time he fell in love.

It’s been years, but he’s never fallen out of it.

Doesn’t think he ever will.

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments/feedback always welcome :)
> 
> also, you can come say to hi me on [tumblr](http://moondoggiestyle.tumblr.com)!


End file.
